Home Again
By Atheniandream
Chapter 3
When she arrives back at the firm, her phone rings with a purpose. She plays roulette in her head and ignores the caller ID, not even bothering with a greeting.
"Donna?" The receiver rings into her ear. Stuart. Of course it is...
"Hey. What's up, I'm just coming back from lunch?" She says, playing at casual.
"I just wanted to check you were ready for tonight?" She hears him ask.
She squirms almost immediately. Of Course. The Benefit.
"The benefit? Uh...yeah, I'm not really feeling great,"
"Donna. You promised." She hears him press the words down the line, with a little extra whine for a kick… He's a practiced negotiator where she is concerned. She forgets that she made him privy to her tactics the day she signed the marriage licence; that he is one other person who can easily get under her skin.
"Okay...you're right, I did. I don't have a dress though."
"So...take the afternoon off." He says matter of factly.
"I...can't." She huffs, squinting to find the words.
"Ask your Boss." He fires back at her, the edge of his voice peeling with indignation.
"I can't, Stuart."
"Why not?"
"Because...he's.." Fucking me? Dislikes you intently? All of the above… She feels her stomach bend against the burn of acid as she tries to focus a thought.
"He's..?" He repeats.
"He...has...a lot, of cases right now. It would be inappropriate for me to just take time off, Stuart."
"Give me his number, ill call him." He says, his tone seeming ballsy.
His words spring her into action.
"No...I'll see what i can come up with. Gotta go," She says, hanging up before the guilt can come on any stronger.
What a mess they've made of things. She wonders how they got from A to Z so quickly without her moral compass throbbing with an objection.
They're far too old to make these many deliberate fuck ups. She thought she was past that phase in her life.
But it seems Harvey is a phase all of his own.
And the trouble is,
She's more than willing, it seems.
Suddenly, there's the thought of an oncoming storm, of a mid-life crisis riding them both into the fray….
When the dress arrives at around seven and Harvey's not a his desk, she takes a quiet moment to sneak to the restroom to get ready.
She's not surprised when she's ambushed.
"Well, aren't we looking glamourous," The voice says.
Her eyes flick towards a grinning Rachel, also dressed to the nines in an aubergine gown, clinched at the waist with a flourish of chiffon-like material over her shoulder.
"Oh, this old thing," She remarks cooly, glancing at her own caramel, shimmering halter-gown.
"Elie Saab?" Rachel enquires, her finger pointing towards her dress.
"Always. And you're wearing...?"
"Peter Som." She smiles back at the redhead.
"It's a beautiful colour on you." She compliments with a wicked smile.
"Thankyou very much. So, is Stuart meeting you here?" Rachel asks, opening her purse.
A panic rises in her throat at the thought of he and Harvey on the same floor.
"No. downstairs. He's going to swing by and call." She says, almost stiffly.
"Mike's still in the bathroom. sorting out his tie." Rachel remarks, her attention catching in the mirror at her blusher.
"You should probably check on him. Tie's are not his forte." Donna reminds her friend.
"I thought I'd give him a little rope." Rachel shrugs. They've all seen what happens when Mike get's enough rope to hang himself with.
Donna watches, as the colour drains from the young paralegal-soon-to-be lawyer-in-training's face, as she realises the odds. "Now that you say it, I better go check." She says with a knowing smile, tottering out of the women's bathroom.
She shakes her head at her friend, checking her makeup one last time and pumping the body of her hair, before walking out into the hall.
She should have known.
Like a moth to a flame...
He turns around as the door closes with the most minute of screeches.
A sigh falls out as her chest rises in defense of something.
Harvey.
He's effortless, she realises, in Tom Ford, as always. He smiles slightly, just a touch out of the corner of his mouth as the other side pinkers a little, clearly taking her in as she stalks slowly, evenly towards him.
There is an expectant need written all over his face, now.
"Don't even." She warns, strangely smirking.
"What if I did?" He asks, his face alight with possibility.
"Then I'd slap you. And we both know I'm really good at it." She says.
He grins then, the remembrance of such a thing lighting up the corners of his dirty mind.
"You look… far too tempting in that." He notes, nodding to her dress.
"That's not why I bought it." She says abruptly. She's not sure why the words sting, or even why she meant them too, as she watches the scrutiny sharpen in the lines around his mouth and eyes.
"Isn't it?" He asks, his gaze questioning her.
"No. Harvey." She says, the words coming out gentler then. She rolls her eyes as she takes in the detail of his suit. "Your bow tie is crooked." She finds herself saying, looking away and resisting the urge to get her hands around it like she normally would.
"So; fix it." He says, completely aware of his intention behind the words. A challenge.
"It's not my job, Harvey." She says, her voice lowering in the intimate moment of it all.
"Now we both know that isn't true." He argues, tilting his head.
There is so many things she could do to him in this moment. Oh, so many inappropriate things...
"Then today will have to be an amendment." She says.
"Not an exception?" He offers. There's something hopeful about the way he looks at her then.
"Harvey,"
Before they have time to react, Scottie rounds the corner, catching up with her voice. It feels like a pail of cold water over them both, as they take a fraction of a step back from each other. She stops next to Harvey, glancing at Donna briefly but doesn't seem to tag on.
"Donna," The little brunette says.
They're a very scrutinising couple, she realises.
"Hey Scottie. How are you?" She feels her smile dampen slightly.
"Exhausted. Are you...coming with us tonight?" She asks, frowning at Donna somewhat.
It's a completely understandable reaction, given the circumstances.
"No. Stuart was invited. I'm just...waiting for him." She replies, feeling the cold intake of air.
"Oh," Scottie says, the silence lingering around the three of them.
"Hows the kid?" Harvey asks her, shuffling.
"Asleep, finally. The sitter was late though. I threatened half her pay." She remarks, folding her arms across her long black gown.
"You...look beautiful." He says, automatically kissing the top of her head when she moves to stand beside him.
It irks her now, she realises. And it irks him too. Surely the air must be painted red by now. The only one being their usual self is Scottie and even that rubs against the grain.
"Well, we should get going." Harvey offers, taking Scottie's hand. She feels her insides blister when he looks directly at her. "Give me a call if he's…" Harvey starts. She reads something in his eyes, a subtext.
"He'll show." She nods, painting the perfect toothless smile on her practised lips.
He waits a second longer, before Scottie tugs on his hand, drawing him to the elevator.
She feels her hands go cold at the thought of having a scarlet letter against her name.
At least it would match her hair...
"Hey honey," Stuart says when she gets into the cab, kissing her on the cheek. It feels immediately strange. Something so morally ambiguous about a natural gesture between a married couple.
"You're late. Again." She reminds him.
"Sorry, the traffic's been terrible. See you got yourself a dress? Boss not so strict after all?" He notes.
"Well… I had it ordered in." She shrugs, putting on her seatbelt.
"Ordered in? Like a sandwich?" He asks, humour lighting up his eyes.
"I'm an assistant. We have our methods." She says.
"Don't you just." He purrs in agreement. "You look like sex."
It hadn't occurred to her that she looked quite so overtly sexual in the dress. She was never one for being that obvious. It made her dread the upcoming public event. Far too many lingering eyes to contend with…
"Good sex, or bad sex?" She asks.
"Very good sex…" He answers, leaning into her with a very obvious smoulder about him.
"No, I mean. Overtly. Or an undertone? My...Boss, my firm, is going to be at this event. I have to look tasteful. Professional." She says, straightening.
"Well, you're not theirs for the night, you're my date tonight." He says pointedly, his light eyes shining at her.
Part of her wants to fill him in on the inconsistencies of that statement. She swallows the thought when he pulls her close, lifting her hair over her shoulder as his eyes glance at her lips with relish.
"Can we...not. We're in a cab." She says stiffly, trying to deter him.
"Honey, we've done it in a cab before." He mumbles, his lips brushing her hair.
"Well, then..maybe I'm just getting old, but I don't want to make out in front of some cab driver." She says, an irrational frown painting her face a she looks out to the driver and the busy streets passing them by.
She realises then that she's being stupid, the objection coming from a strangely backwards place in her head. She dulls it all out and kisses him soundly on the lips.
"I'm sorry I just… I don't often mix my personal life with work. I'm just worrying." She says. If only he knew...
"We're gonna have a great time. Okay?" He insists, trying to reassure her.
She nods limply, trying to wash her face of any tension, more to reassure him than anything else.
It's then that the need for gin and tonics in quick succession makes itself a prominent thought in her head as the cab draws to a halt.
The Benefit is low lit, and packed to the gunnels with many noted faces of the city; from sportsmen and women to every top law firm, New York's elite and even one or two thousand of New York's press. It's all in a days work for Harvey, as he escorts Dana into the building. He spots Mike and Rachel lingering at the foot of the stairs, looking young and unimposing.
"Mike." Harvey greets his protege.
"Harvey." Mike nods curtly.
"Nice tux, baby Harvey." She says with a wry grin, eyeing Mike like a hawk.
Harvey knows that Mike only tolerates Scottie because of him.
"Hey babymomma. Nice dress." Mike replies with a smirk. Holding his own around the little brunette has become second nature to him over the last few years.
"Rachel," Harvey nods, his hands falling into his pockets. "You've met Dana Scott?"
"Uh yes...you used to work at the firm?" She says, smiling.
"I still do. I hope. I'm just…" Her face falls minutely in the frankness of Rachel's observation. "Taking care of our child until she'd old enough to go to daycare." She replies, shrugging.
"Of course. Do you miss it? The Law." She asks, the usual caring Rachel expression that often gets mistaken for pitying by lesser informed individuals.
Scottie is unfazed, either way.
"Sometimes. I hope to get back onto the Partner track at some point. Considering the work I've put in over the years." She replies pointedly, her eyes flicking briefly to Harvey, who masks his expression with a distracted look.
It's come up in hints and subtext that even though she decided to keep the baby, that she blames him for getting her pregnant in the first place. She's never said it, but somehow, the weight of it is on him, despite the choices that she herself has made. He hasn't married her, even after all this time. And he wouldn't when they first got together. He remembers their almost disagreement on the fact...
And that's what sticks in her throat. Unsaid and Unresolved in silence.
"Well. I'm getting a drink." Scottie says. "You want anything?" She asks, looking to Harvey, her lashes fluttering at him as she waits for an answer.
"Usual?" He asks, his features thankful as she walks away with a tight smile on her lips.
He feels the circle exhale at the strange moment. She does that, he realises. Creates an air. Perhaps she always has and he's just not noticed. Like she's incapable of being polite and charismatic, even around the people he trusts the most.
"Well. You two are…" Mike starts, ignoring a warning glare that emerges from Rachel.
"What?" Harvey bites slightly. He's not annoyed, despite it being quick off the tongue.
"Nothing. You ready?" He asks, changing the subject.
"Mike, I was born ready." He says, his tight expression pushing for a smirk. "How about you?"
"I'm pumped. Have you seen him yet? Bergdorff?"
"No. Not yet. I'll let you know," He replies.
Just then he's hit, his eyes zoning in on a newcomer.
Donna, on the arm of...her husband. The Doctor.
It was almost too easy to forget him, to revert back to the previous eleven years before he came along. He looks...younger than him. But then, Blondes, of his caliber always do. That youthful prince charming demeanour. He's never had such a quality, far too dark in mood for such a thing. He was okay with it, until now, that is.
Perhaps Stuart really is a better man for her...
His eyes catch at hers as she glides along, tempting and all at once, frustratingly off limits.
He knows she'd punch him if she saw even a fraction of what he's feeling; that overwhelming grasp that she's his and only his. She'd wipe the idea of such a thing away with a slap to the face and a colourful word or two. His attention dances on the daydream of such an idea. Hell, he really is getting old...
She nods quietly, an oblivious gesture to the rest of the room. He's sure that Rachel and Mike catch it, though. They've always been strangely insync with the two of them.
"Why do I keep forgetting that Donna actually has a husband?" Mike suddenly says. He looks over to see the younger man somewhat puzzled as he too stares back at the redhead.
"He's nice." Rachel says. She eyes them both, shrugging when the two men stare back at her with a subtext stringing out between them. "What? He is. He's…"
"What?" Mike asks.
"...Nice." She repeats, digesting the words with a vagueness that leaves questions in the air between them.
Harvey feels his jaw tighten at the thought.
It's going to be a long night.
"Isn't that your Boss?" Stuart nudges her shoulder with his, looking at her expectantly.
"Yes." She says, glancing vaguely at the group, Rachel and Mike staring back at her, clearly in question over something.
"You wanna go over and say 'Hi?'" He asks, touching her elbow.
"Not really. I see him everyday." She says, rolling her eyes, a tiny bead of sweat in the middle of her back. Thank god she's wearing a lined and textured dress, as she feels the swoon of a stressful night approaching.
"But I don't," He says, taking her hand.
She feels herself blanch, the blood rushing to her centre as he swerves them both towards the crowd of three.
It's like the gods are literally putting shit in their way to make a point about moral obligation…
"Hi...everybody." Donna feels herself say as they arrive at their damned destination. "This is Stuart… My…"
"Husband?" Stuart fills in, looking strangely back at her.
"Yes. Stuart, you've met Harvey? Stuart Knight, Harvey Specter; my Boss." She says, gesturing between them.
"Harvey; did we meet at the wedding?" Stuart asks, moving to shake Harvey's hand, who cooly extends his own.
"Stuart. I think so." Harvey replies, a dent forming on either side of his lips.
"You were with your..wife? Little brunette?" Stuart asks, gesturing the approximate height of Scottie.
"Girlfriend. Yeah." He replies, his words fitting into an even smirk. A cover.
Anyone who knew him would know that there were sharp teeth and a growl behind that smirk of his.
"Well, nice to see you again." Stuart says, a chipper grin on his face as he looks around the group.
"You've met my associate; Mike Ross?" Harvey chimes in, glancing at Donna briefly before inferring Mike.
"Junior Partner." Mike corrects.
"I prefer errand boy," She hears Harvey comment beside her as Mike and Stuart shake hands and Rachel laughs.
"Nice to see you again, Stuart. Hows the medical profession?" Mike asks. Cordial as ever.
"Busy." He replies with a tired smile. "All in a day's work."
"I can imagine. You remember Rachel Zane," Mike offers, touching Rachel's back.
"Nice…to see you again, Stuart." Rachel says, smiling warmly through the irony.
Donna watches as both Harvey and Mike look towards her at that. She's clearly missed their little gossip.
"You're at…" Stuart gestures, trying to remember.
"Columbia." Rachel answers.
"I did my training there."
"Really? Wow. It's a beautiful school." She gushes. Ever the gusher...
She feels herself relax at that. She can always count on Rachel to be cordial when it's most needed.
"Go Lions!" Stuart says, goofily raising his fist to the air. She watches, as Harvey and Mike share a look she's not invited to as Rachel laughs genuinely at the football reference.
"I'm more of a mature student." She shrugs. "Shirking keggers and games in favour of still working part time at the firm."
"Of course. Donna told me you were a consummate professional." He notes, looking to Donna briefly. "So, where's your other half this evening, Harvey?" He asks, turning his attention squarely on him.
She watches as every single person except Stuart stiffen.
"I'm...hello?" Scottie interrupts, smiling sweetly, appearing seemingly out of nowhere to extend a hand through waves upon waves of hair.
"Scottie, you remember Donna's...husband, Stuart?" Harvey says.
"It's Dana," She offers to Stuart, as they exchange cordial greetings.
"What happened to getting a drink?" Harvey asks, all manners aside.
"I was accosted by an old colleague." She shrugs him off, looking back at Stuart.
"I'll get us a drink." He says gruffly. "Stuart, it was… nice to meet you. Donna." He nods, a curt smile on his face as he disappears into the crowd and out of the seeming chaos.
"Apologies. Harvey's not here on social terms," Dana explains.
"Ah." Stuart says, glancing at Donna briefly. "The work day never really ends, I guess."
"Which reminds me," Mike chimes in. "I better go...prepare… with Harvey." He says, squeezing Rachel's waist as he too flees the strange gathering.
She wishes she could go with. It becomes apparent that this could be their life. Her life. Fixed between two points. The thought is sobering, to say the least.
She too, still hasn't gotten a drink.
As Harvey leans against the counter, he feels his chest tighten, his heart stir with an irregular beat as his fingers clamp around the bar counter top, the wood cool and polished against his warm hands.
He has to focus; now is not the time to be sidetracking himself with personal matters.
"Okay. What's going on?" Mike says, casually leaning against the counter next to him.
"Nothing." He says stubbornly, pinching his nose with his thumb and forefinger as a tension burns between the bridge.
"I know that you and Donna had some...issues, before she got married, but don't tell me you still don't like the guy?"
"I don't like…nor dislike him," He says reluctantly. He wants to tell Mike to mind his own damn business, but swallows the fact for his friend's sake. He's not a rookie anymore, after all.
"Well it sure as hell didn't look like indifference, Harvey." Mike says, rather roughly for a subordinate.
"Why are tagging onto this? We have work to do." He says, straightening as he pushes off the counter.
"Okay. But you've been warned. Your colours are showing." He says, catching the bartender's attention simultaneously.
Harvey's thankful that that's the only thing that's showing. "Let's just get this merger off of the ground? Shall we?" He says, biting back a growl
"You lead. I'll follow."
"Good boy." He says with a smirk.
Donna spends most of her evening in a daze; her head fogging slowly against the slow moving sea of people, the free flowing champagne hitting her glass as the voice of her husband and his audience lulls her into a daze.
She would have preferred to be on the job; scheming and schmoozing for Harvey rather than a pretty thing on someone's arm. She knows that it's not Stuarts doing, it's hers. It's all her fault.
She notices Harvey move in the distance; with Scottie glued to him, her lips ready and waiting. She never noticed before just how...obvious the woman was. If she was really honest with herself, she had been avoiding their PDAs for a while now. A kiss there, a touch in his office, an in-joke in front of her and Mike. The little, but somehow poignant things that made her skin spike with an oddness.
She didn't hate Scottie. She could never really hate her. She had been misunderstood from day one, sure, and there had been animosity on her side, mostly to protect Harvey from her apparent scheming. And she may or may not have bribed Harvey into them staying together, but,
She was just a woman, in love with a man.
A woman who knew what she wanted, and would fight tooth and nail for it,
No matter what the cost.
She supposed that was something to be admired about Dana Scott.
But Harvey was no fool. Not anymore.
And maybe it made it all the more obvious; watching him react to her. Watching that forced half smile of his plastered on his face as he looks down at her. He's seeing it. Seeing a difference. His eyes suddenly dart away, cutting through the crowd and right at her.
She feels a blush creep up her neck and spread over her cheeks as his liquid eyes find hers. She looks away, taking a long sip of her drink, as Stuart notices her, smiling whilst in mid-explanation on the new technologies emerging in Medicine.
She puts down her glass, quietly squeezing Stuart's shoulder and making for the ladies room.
She should have known that when she walked back out into the hallway he'd be waiting for her, casually leant against the wall with a self satisfied grin on his defined features.
"Harvey," She sighs, moving to pass him. He grabs her waist, tugging at her hand. She's looking all around them for witnesses as he all but stuffs her into the disabled cubicle down the hall.
She's almost speechless as he locks the door behind her.
"Really? Disabled bathroom? Don't you think that's the slightest bit inappropriate given the event?"
"There are no disabled people at the benefit," He shrugs, tutting.
"What, have you been counting?"
"Donna," He says, the trademark tone that he uses sticking to her skin for a second too long.
"Don't Donna me," She mumbles under her breath. God only knows how loud they are in here.
"I needed to talk to you," He says, his face seeming apologetic.
"Harvey. Aren't you supposed to be gaining a client? This is a new level of unprofessional, even for you."
"Mike's closing. And we've got him. Thanks for the confidence boost."
"Harvey," She says, her breath falling with an effort. "Your girlfriend...hell, your partner is out there, probably wondering where we both are."
"I doubt it. Listen...you and Stuart," He starts, ignoring her.
"Let me guess; it bothers you?" She offers, glaring at him.
"Yes. Alot."
"Well. That's...too bad. Because you're about two years too late on the objection there, Harvey."
"I can't stop thinking about you."
"Don't give me a line." She sneers, rocking on her heels.
"It's not a line." He says, stepping towards her.
"Harvey, I think we underestimate our other halves." She says, lazily stepping on her back foot to equalise the difference.
"They're...not our other halves." He says, sure of the double edge in his statement. She feels the hair on her arms stand on end.
"You know what I mean, Harvey. Neither of them are going to give up without a fight if we-"
"So, you've thought about it, then?"
"About what?" She asks, knowing full well what he's inferring.
"Ending it. Your marriage, my...relationship."
It dawns on her then. He really is serious. And seriously scaring her.
"Why are you doing this now?" She asks, exasperated at him putting her in this position.
"Because you're too afraid to. And I get it; I hurt you, back then? I'm trying to make up for that now."
"We can't make up for it. It's done. We're done. Tonight made me see that we'd be screwing more than just each other if we acted on this, Harvey. This is not the right time for you to be making grand gestures."
"Donna. We can't go back now. Not after today."
"Yes we can. Like we did before. Just brush it all under the rug."
"We're not thirty anymore."
"Exactly. We have a responsibility. You have a child, Harvey. It's...done." She says. It takes all her will to walk right past him, guarded until she reaches the door.
"What happened to twenty four hours?" He throws over his shoulder.
"I didn't need that long after all." She says, unlocking the door as it swings shut behind her.
She's thankful that he doesn't come after her. But then again, Harvey's never been one for public displays of intention.
She's thankful for the second time that night, when Stuart wants to go home a little earlier. The day has been far too eventful for a woman of her age. As they wait to hail a cab, she spots Rachel solo, waiting along the sidewalk as she hugs her coat around her dainty form.
"Rachel," She calls, catching her friends attention as she shuffles with a shiver over to the two of them.
"Hey. You leaving early?"
"Yeah. This one's had a very long day," She remarks, nudging her husband with a smile. "You too?"
"Mike and Harvey went back to the firm to prepare a contract for Bergdorff I think. I assume that they won't emerge until tomorrow morning. You know how it is." She says, staving off the cold with another shiver.
"Yeah, I can imagine. It's been a while since they've pulled an all nighter." She remarks. The good old days, when Mike was a rookie associate learning the ropes flooded through her mind. "You wanna get a cab with us?" She asks her friend.
"No, I'm fine thankyou. I think I'll stop by my parent's house tonight. They're nearer school."
"So cute. You're a student." She says, teasing her friend.
"I know. Oh," Rachel says, spying a cab behind them. "You better get that."
"You take the first one," Stuart says, opening the door for her.
"Thanks. Goodnight." She says to the them both, as the door shuts and the cab speeds off.
"She's adorable." Stuart remarks watching the cab drive out into the moving traffic.
"Yeah. Her and Mike are just too cute."
"They're dating?" He asks.
"Yeah. Lovebirds."
"They make a nice couple. Both very pleasant. Unlike Harvey and his uh…"
"What's wrong with Harvey?" She asks, the annoyance catching as she waits for him to dig a hole.
"Is he always such a...people person?"
"He has some...rough edges, sure. But he turns it on when he needs to."
And turns her on with the same flick of a switch it appears...
"Its just…" He starts. She watches him calculate each word against her expression.
"What?"
"He and...Dana, is it?"
"Yeah."
"They're a strange couple." He says matter of factly.
"They have a kid." She says, running to their...to his defence. "It's hard...to juggle being a lawyer and a Dad."
"Did they meet at the firm?"
"No. They met at Harvard. They have a…long history." She says as they get into the car.
She's thankful that he has no more questions on their ride home, and instead she's left with a few of her own. How she managed to dodge a Harvey sized bullet is one. There's a lingering doubt in her head that he'll give it up, this insistence in him to suddenly change all that they've built, to bring down their glory with a catalyst, a domino that could wipe out their lives in one fail swoop.
She wonders again if it's all just a mid life crisis and she is his go to. It's not inconceivable, given their history.
The thought pulls her through her building, supports her as she stands quietly in the elevator in her husband's arms, all the way to their apartment where she unlocks the door and wanders over the threshold.
She lets out a strangled breath when he starts back up again in their bedroom almost five minutes later.
"Your Boss and his partner," He starts whilst undoing a cufflink.
"Yes?" She says, the 's' gritting against her teeth with a squeak.
"So they've only now decided to have a kid?" He asks, flipping his shirt off in one fail swoop.
"What's with all the questions about my Boss?"
"I'm just...interested. Like I said...strange couple. So?"
"They've only been officially together for a… couple of years. They were...casual for a very long time." She replies, undoing her shoes with far more than the necessary force required.
"That's what's sticks." He says, a look of victory on his face, like the answer was there all the time.
"What?"
"Harvey doesn't seem like…a family type of man."
"He's a great Dad. But…he did used to be an eternal bachelor."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yes." She says, not wishing to divulge any further on the matter. Far too many skeletons...
"She must have hit him hard to nail him down then?" He asks.
"Scottie is...she gets what she wants." She says, simply.
"Yeah, I gathered that. And she's just...happy that she's raising his kid? She doesn't seem like the natural mother type."
"Oh she's not. I mean, she's a good mother but she's...an ambitious and talented lawyer. Always has been."
"So you guys must all go back a fair bit. How long have you worked for Harvey?"
"Stuart. You know this. Since the DA's office."
"So what's that...five, six years?"
"Something like that," She says. The truth of the matter seems like the worst possible answer.
She feels herself frown as he quietly reads between the lines.
"How long, Donna?" He presses.
"What does it matter?" She asks, letting out an exasperated breath.
"How long have you worked for him?"
The tension pushes between them as they look back at each other, pushing and goading one another. She's never had to divulge the details of her and Harvey's relationship. It feels like an intrusion.
"I don't know...fourteen, fifteen years."
"Wow." He says, visibly taken aback.
"It's really not that long." She downplays his response, rolling her eyes, the tension falling into her hands as she takes off her earrings, scattering them one-by-one into the bowl on her dresser.
"On the contrary, that is...a long time to work for one person if you're under fifty."
"You're also forgetting that I'm paid very well for my job. I'm the best paid assistant out of every top law firm in the city." She says, pointedly.
"Yeah. I always found that strange, too."
"Excu-use me?" She stutters, the shock of his souring attitude scratching at her resolve. "Do I not look like I deserve to get paid well?"
"Don't misunderstand me, honey. I think you deserve every penny. But you're...an Assistant."
"Executive Assistant." She corrects him, ignoring how it makes her stomach burn.
"Sure. But you make a hell of a lot more than most."
"Well I am incredibly talented." She says with a wry smile, overshadowing her glowering stare.
"Something tells me you're too talented for your own good." He remarks, undoing his shirt.
She feels the ire rise in her unnaturally.
"Harvey appreciates the work that I do, Stuart. We work well as a team. We always have."
"Clearly. And clearly I've not asked enough questions until now." He says flatly, undoing his pants with a roughness.
It's true. He never has asked. Never had the inclination until now, it seems. It worries her that he would now have a reason to look deeper into their working relationship at anything more than a superficial level.
"Why are you making this a problem? Any husband would be thrilled that their wife makes enough money to live in Manhattan, is great at her job and has a Boss that respects her enough to pay her what she's actually worth." She says, her hair bouncing as she whips around to face him.
"Most Bosses don't look into the worth of their Assistants with that amount of detail."
"We're friends, Stuart. I've known Harvey for a long time. He is a good Boss."
"And have you always been just friends?" He asks.
It's like taking a bullet, there and then. But she's too angry to let the truth out.
"How dare you! I won't have you questioning the moral obligations of our working relationship. I work for him. The firm pays me. That is it. End of discussion." She bites, swooping back around to the mirror.
"You say that. And yet you're the one losing your temper here." He notes, his eyes watching her intently.
"Because you're trying to infer that there's something untoward about the working relationship that I have with my Boss!"
"And you're the one overreacting about it, Donna."
"I…" She stares, open-mouthed and wordlessly staring at him. She can feel herself divide in that one moment.
It's as if he can sense her unease, sense the turmoil mounting through the evening into questions for him to pick at later.
She let's her dress pool to the floor mindlessly, unrolling her stockings one by one.
Since when did he pick at her, at the things in her, their life? And since when did she lose her temper at her husband of two years?
Since…
She pulls on her slacks as they drape over the dressing chair and grabs her lumpy NYU sweater, tugging it over her head as his attention piques in the background.
"Where are you going?" He calls after her.
"I just need to… get some air." She says, grabbing her keys in the process as she pulls on her sneakers.
He follows her to the door.
"What are you doing? It's nearly half eleven at night? Don't," He starts to plead, looking frustratedly through tired eyes.
"No… you don't. I need some air, Stuart. So I'm going for a run. Okay?" She says, blinding herself by even managing to look him in the eye with conviction.
"Fine." He says, backing away.
"Don't wait up." She orders, frowning.
That's the difference between them both. Harvey would follow her regardless of what she wanted.
She feels stupid, riding the elevator with a sweater and slacks hiding a bodice and laced underwear. The fact that she ran all the way there says something strange about her character. To dice with the possibility of danger that the city has on offer at near gone twelve at night. Anything could have happened. And she doesn't even have her cell or any money on her person.
She hears the familiar ding as the floor in question appears, the Pearson Specter & Litt lining the wall as she passes, making her way with a strained purpose.
She almost sighs with relief when she spies him in her chair, staring dumbly at her monitor.
"You know you're not allowed in here when the Boss isn't around." She says casually, leaning against her own cubicle wall as she waits for him to notice her. He double takes for a second, squinting at her like he's finally ready to admit he needs laser eye treatment.
He smiles then, his features softening. "You're not gonna tell her though; Right?" He asks, leaning back in her chair.
"I don't know. She can be tough." She says with a twinkle in her eye.
"I wouldn't have her any other way." He admonishes, watching her, moving on her swivel chair as she walks around the outside to meet him halfway.
"Where's Mike?" She asks, eyes looking up and down the hall.
"Told him to go home and fuck his girlfriend."
"Well, she's at her parents house," She notes.
"I know." He replies, cockily.
"You're such a jerk." She remarks, the laughter dry in her throat.
"What are you doing here, Donna?" He asks, frowning then, standing as she moves into his office. She waits for him to shut the door behind them, despite no one else being in the building. He leans against the outside of his desk as she lingers between the couch and the coffee table.
"Honestly?" She asks, her hands picking at the nails on each finger.
"Honesty would be...good." He says, the seriousness of their anticipated talk flattening the mood.
"You did...hurt me. Back then." She says, quietly.
"I know that. I am sorry."
"I know. And I was...practical about why you asked me to come and work with you. I let it go, for you."
"I know." He admits, straightening against the table top.
"What we're doing? It's not good." She says.
"I'm thinking for a way out of it." He says. It sounds like a promise.
"Are you?"
"Yes." He says. She knows immediately, by the sternness of his answer that he means every word.
He pushes off of the desk then, standing in front of her. "Does he know that you're here?" He asks, the need for names long gone.
"No." She says, shaking her head.
He nods, feeling the weight of her answer ripple out into the glass box that encases them.
"So…?" He asks, waiting, his jaw defined as he pouts at her, deliberately so. Letting her make the decision this time.
She closes the gap slowly, painstakingly, aware with every step that he's still dressed in his tuxedo shirt when she is draped in far less exotic an outfit.
His hands slip under her lumpy sweater, finding and curving around her hips, pulling her flush to him with a slight bump.
'Baby I'm thinking it over
What if the way we started made it something cursed from the start
What if it only gets colder
Would you still wrap me up and tell me that you think this was smart
Cuz lately I've been scared of even thinking 'bout where we are' - 'Waiting Game' BANKS.
She slides her hands across the panels of his chest, feeling his nipples peak with a prominence as her fingers slide up further, along the sides of his neck and jaw as he angles his head, drinking her in but still waiting for her to make the move.
She's not really sure who has the most to lose at this point in time. But the way he looks at her makes her feel fifteen again, ripe with the promise of something meaningful and chaste.
One thing she does know, she planned it all. The fight. Coming here… maybe her subconscious is more dangerous than she ever realised or allowed for. Howling Dogs in the Cellar and all that...
She feels her top lip bump against his and captures it in her lips, his breath hot and mouth quivering slightly at the release between them as tongues mingle together with a finality. She closes her eyes then, feeling him push her further into him, enveloping her, his hands firmly holding her as her breath becomes thready, mouths hot against one another in building wave upon wave, their hands becoming urgent and needy with every second that ticks from the clock on his desk.
'I'm naked
I'm numb
I'm stupid
I'm staying
And if Cupid's got a gun
Then he's shootin'
Lights black
Heads bang
You're my drug
We live it
You're drunk, you need it
Real love, I'll give it
So we're bound to linger on
We drink the fatal drop
Then love until we bleed
Then fall apart in parts'
"What if someone…" She says vaguely as she stills long enough for him to pull her sweater over her head.
"They won't," He says, dropping the sweater on the floor in favour of admiring what's underneath.
"Nice…" He says, admiring the silky fabric and lace. "I should have guessed."
"I didn't plan it." She says, her face falling.
He notices, concern on his face then as he cups her cheek. "I know." He tries to assure her, their foreheads touching, resting for a moment on the weight of the other. "We'll work it out. Okay?" He mumbles.
She feels the need to look into his eyes then, the feeling of his stare overwhelming her. He always had an intensity to him. Even in the earlier years. It hasn't lessened.
'You wasted your times
On my heart
You've burned
And if bridges gotta fall
Then you'll fall too
Doors slam
Lights black
You're gone
Come back
Stay gone
Stay clean
I need you to need me'
He kisses her then, soundly, drawing her out with a longing as his lips trail down her neck and for a moment she's lost in the sensation of him sucking on the length of her throat, teeth and tongue dancing there that that she's taken aback when he lifts her off of the floor.
"Harvey!" She initially objects.
"Nice to see I can still surprise you," He remarks, cupping her ass as he carries her to his desk.
"Please don't tell me that we're going to...on your desk?" She accuses, wrapping her legs around his waist.
"There's only one thing...maybe two things that I love more than my work. And before you ask...no one else has or will ever sit on that desk."
She smiles at his admission as he pops her on the desk, in front of his chair. She watches silently as he kisses her soundly, standing between her legs as they hang of the edge.
"Well. Good." Is her only reply. It humours him immediately, her inability to form an argument as he peppers kisses down her neck, chest and reaches her stomach. She lets out a breath she didn't know she held his lips slip lower, past the bare expanse of her stomach to the inside of her left thigh.
She knows what's coming. But she asks anyway. "What are you doing?"
"Giving you the best damn orgasm of your life."
"You like a challenge, don't you?" She says through a strangled moan, leaning back on her hands. She almost laughs outright when he pops up to meet her eyes, his expression arrogant.
"Please," He says, rolling his eyes, before pulling her closer to the edge of the desk.
She watches him, as he sits down in his chair, of all things.
"You're so lazy." She remarks.
"It's the right height, you'll see." He says with a waggle of an eyebrow.
"You've clearly thought about this," She says, her breath hitching in her throat with a longing.
"Yes I have," He says through a stern concentration.
When he shimmies her panties off with just his teeth, she knows then that he's all business in that chair.
She'll never look at him sat in that chair the same way ever again.
'So we're bound to linger on
We drink the fatal drop
Then love until we bleed
Then fall apart in parts' - 'Until We Bleed' Lykke Li
An hour later, they're spread out on his sofa, her sitting against him, a tangle of limbs and only a sweater wrapped around her front for warmth, his scotch resting on the back of the sofa as she cradles hers, watching it swill around in the glass.
"Well...this is...different." She says.
"This is the first time I've actually used the couch for this purpose." Harvey remarks, resting an arm on her stomach.
"Really? Oh…" She says, becoming quiet as she falls into thoughts.
"What…?" He asks. He knows immediately that she has information.
"It's not the...first time it's been used for...this purpose, though."
"Mike and Rachel?" He asks.
"Twice. Once in the Copy room, too."
"Twice? On...my couch?" He splutters, scoffing.
"Yep." She says, with a pop on the 'p'. "I wiped it, thoroughly. So don't worry." She says, patting his leg.
"I love you." He says, kissing her shoulder.
"Will you stop saying that?" She says, immediately regretting the reflex the moment it falls out of her mouth.
"Why?" He asks, looking around to meet her eyes.
"It's like you have...love tourettes! It's...unnerving." She says with a shiver of dislike.
"You know. You really are the more emotionally unavailable one out of the two of us. I realise that now."
"And you're the needier one of us." She counters, stretching out against him.
"Well...I do need you. And I'm okay with that." He says, pressing her further into him.
She's silent then, taking a sip of her scotch as the words reluctantly thread together. In a strange way she kind of owes it to him.
"I do. You know…" She says nonchalantly, feeling him stir against her.
"You what?" He says, getting a little closer. She can almost feel the smile on his lips, the mirth at watching her as his breath tickles her ear.
"You know. Love you." She says, huffing at the admission and drinking her scotch to stop her from elaborating.
"I know." He replies simply, giving her waist a squeeze.
"You didn't." She scoffs.
"The mock trial. I knew then. I just…" He trails off, in thought, or admission. Or a mixture of the two.
"Just what?" She asks.
"I just...didn't know how much. And if that meant enough to change things."
"You know, for two more than midly attractive, successful, accomplished people…"
"We screwed it up."
"We did."
They let the words scatter, the permanence of their actions filling the room.
"I have to go." She says, stirring.
"No you don't." He says, grunting any objection.
"I have to. And you have to, too." She says, patting his leg for her to stand, glancing around the room for pieces of scattered clothing.
They dress quietly, somewhat pensively. They don't kiss again.
Maybe he's just as afraid as she is, of not wanting to stop once they start up again.
She leaves first, not wanting to be seen in the elevator together.
When she gets home, she takes a shower, and then the couch.
She's thankful that Stuart's not waiting up for her.
Okay, now the party's gonna really start. Got a lot of the two years to fill in. Thanks for all the reviews so far. I'll be putting out a another chapter soon. Feel like it's not anything new at this point, so hopefully want to take it in a more interesting direction.