A/N: You guys, I was blown away with last chapter's response. Every word was so much appreciated. I'm sorry I can't answer them all personally but it fueled me to write this next one. As one person cleverly remarked, we are nearing the end of the song lyrics and as much as I would like to continue this domestic fluff, all good things must come to an end. We can't keep Donna in angst limbo forever! Also, I'm already plotting the next story. Let me know what you think of this chapter. Fair warning, my beta was grossed out but that might just be her ;-)
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Feels Like Home
Chapter 17
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With my arms open wide) my arms are open
(I will be standing here)
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Stretching out comfortably, Harvey yawns loudly. Not feeling Donna's weight in his arms, he reaches over to her side but is met with cold, empty sheets.
His eyes fly open. The alarm clock tells him it's 08:30 am. He does a recount of the days in his head but he is 99% sure it's Saturday. Normally, he and Donna sleep in on the weekend.
He didn't rope her into Survivor as he originally hoped but they settled on The Amazing Race.
They always say that this Friday night they'll watch just one episode but it's usually 01:00 am when Donna begs for one more, only to fall asleep halfway through. This means he always watches that last episode of the day twice. Although he always tells her he fell asleep too, he never does. He just relishes in the comfort of sharing his sofa with Donna. He likes to tease her that she drools on his chest but in all honesty, it's his favorite moment of the day. One where he feels completely at peace and stress-free.
But right now he is far from stress-free, he is worried. They always wake up together, discussing the countries they have seen in last night's episodes and Donna doing her Donna thing on the contestants. She always predicts correctly who is going to crack. He stopped betting with her on it. He has accepted the fact that it'll always be his turn to heat the caramel sauce Donna likes to eat with the chunky monkey she munches on during their tv nights. He also stopped arguing how heating the sauce makes the ice cream melt and it turns into one big pile of slush. He just gets a few spoons in while it's still solid.
He gets up and rushes to the partly open doors. Donna is sitting at the counter, seemingly oblivious to the worry that took hold of him and he feels the nausea ebb away.
He softly shakes his head to reel himself in. But he can't help it. The redhead, in her pajama bottoms with a tank top, her hair tied into a ponytail, does things to his insides he isn't willing to admit. Or actually, he is willing to admit it but he can't drop this on Donna now.
He shuffles in her direction at the kitchen counter. "Missing from my bed, one redhead. I almost filed a missing person's report."
Donna looks up as he peeks over her shoulder. "I couldn't sleep anymore and with you awakening the accountant in me, I decided to make a head start."
In front of her are three piles of papers and a stack of empty envelopes.
"Now these," she places her hand on the closest pile, "are all important and any bills outstanding are now paid." She moves on to the next. "These are pretty old bills and I'd like to consult with you if they still need paying." She searches his face and he nods. "And these are just junk." She swipes the last pile to the side. She looks at him with a beaming smile. "Are you proud of me?"
He gives her a warm smile. "Always," he says in a low voice, planting a kiss on top of her red strands and pulling open the fridge. He takes out a kiwi and grabs a melon and pineapple from the fruit bowl. Then expertly starts to slaughter the pineapple with a large knife.
Donna's eyes sweep up and down his body. Barefoot, fitted tee, and boxer shorts, making her a salad.
"Why are you checking me out, woman?" Harvey asks with his head down.
"Those abs aren't the same as they used to be, are they?"
Harvey's fingers stop moving. Narrowing his eyes, he squints at her.
"My abs are just as hard as they were when you…"
He sees the sly smile playing on her lips.
"I'm making you a fresh salad for 90 days in a row and this is how you repay me?" He tuts his disapproval.
"Ninety-three."
"What?"
"It's been ninety-three days."
"Are you keeping track, Miss Paulsen?" Harvey smirks.
"No… yes… maybe. Are you?" Donna swirls from side to side on her stool as Harvey chuckles and licks his lips.
"You just climbed out of bed and the first thing you do is slice fruit."
"I would go straight for the coffee if it weren't for someone finishing the bottle of vanilla and not adding a new one to our grocery cart. Not naming any names here but they know who they are." He wiggles his eyebrows at her.
"I've ruined you." She rolls her eyes at him with an exaggerated sigh.
"Yep, you ruined me thirteen years ago and now there's no going back." He means to tease her but the double meaning to his words hangs in the air.
Donna clears her throat. "So, Hilli mentioned something yesterday that I keep coming back to."
Harvey is silent, waiting for her to elaborate.
"She says my apartment might never feel safe again." Donna bites her lip hard.
Harvey gives her a sympathetic look but she adverts her eyes. He continues chopping and waits for her cue.
"So," Donna takes a deep breath, "I decided to sell my apartment and buy something new. A fresh start is what I need." The words tumble out of her.
She looks up at Harvey who seems frozen for a second before giving her a lopsided smile. He sets off the knife to do some more slicing.
"Fuck!" Harvey shouts, squeezing his eyes shut. "Holy mother of—" He suppresses more cursing, pursing his lips, fumbling around for some paper towel.
"Harvey, what—?" Donna's eyes bulge. "Is that your fingertip?"
"Yes," Harvey grunts. He looks at the scene in front of him. He isn't easily grossed out but the tip of his finger between the chunks of fruit with blood all over the cutting board, makes his face turn pale.
"We should have someone take a look at that." Donna's eyes shift nervously from the board to his hand. Rounding the counter, wrapping a tea towel around his hand, she orders, "Press real tight."
Rummaging in a drawer she finds a ziplock bag and fills it with ice from the freezer. Standing in front of the horror scene that is the cutting board, she takes a deep breath, takes a clean spoon, and with a big gulp and some shrieking she sweeps all of the contents inside the iced bag.
She helps him quickly into a pair of sweatpants and ushers them out of the door to the emergency room.
…
Harvey finds Donna curled up in her egg chair two nights later.
"There's my blind mouse," Donna chirps as he sinks down in a chair at the outside dining table.
"Excuse me?" He frowns at her looking tired, further demonstrated by a yawn.
Donna closes her book, unfolding her legs from underneath her and stretching them in front, causing the chair to swing sideways.
"You know the nursery rhyme three blind mice. Where the farmer's wife cuts off their tails with a carving knife?" A smirk plays on her lips and her eyes are twinkling with mischief.
Harvey's eyes flick over her. She looks relaxed. Almost zen-like. He hasn't seen her this serene in a long time.
"Ugh," he harrumphs. "Not you too. They all gave me so much shit about it at the office."
Donna casts a look over his bandaged middle finger.
"If you make one more comment…you are sleeping on the sofa tonight." His voice is stern and he tries to give her a grim look.
"I wasn't." Donna laughs, getting up. "Poor baby, were the other boys mean to you at the playground? Let me make it better by fixing you dinner." She approaches him, running her hand through the hair at the back of his head, pressing a flighty kiss at his temple.
He grabs her hand when she walks away. Surprised, she lets him pull her close, knitting her eyebrows together when he leans forward, resting his head against her abdomen. Instinctively, she lets her fingers roam at the nape of his neck. She doesn't say anything, waits patiently for him to find his bearings.
A warm glow rises to her cheeks, realizing he finally deems her robust enough to lean on her, not just the other way around. But inside her a nagging feeling surfaces, mixed with the tiniest flutter low in her stomach. She needs to get out of this man's hair so that he can refocus his energy, she feels like she is draining him currently. And then, maybe then, he can go back to see her the way she desperately wants him to see her again.
Harvey, retreating, pulls her from her thoughts. He looks flustered, embarrassed even, so she quickly untangles her fingers and moves inside, leaving him alone with his contemplations.
…
"Can you set the table?" Donna calls out thirty minutes later.
Harvey regrets being deep in thought instead of changing into more comfortable clothes but nothing can be done about that now.
"It smells delicious." Harvey inhales deeply. He gathers some cutlery from a drawer, sneaking a peek into the oven. "Is that chicken parm?" he asks, surprised.
Donna nods. "With panko and Italian breadcrumbs, and marinating all day in the egg mixture."
"You used my mom's recipe," he says huskily.
"All those hours I spent sitting on that kitchen stool watching you move around the kitchen weren't entirely in vain." Her cheeks burn as his eyes sweep over her. She turns back to the stove to take the steaming vegetables off the heat.
"Need me to chop some fresh parsley for the finishing touch?"
Donna's eyes flick between his face and his bandaged finger. He seems completely serious.
He follows her eyes. "I'm not going to slice off another one." A cynical smile on his lips.
"Even so, just in case, I got you this." She slides over a small bag.
He pulls out an oddly shaped metal item. "What is it?" he asks, turning it, looking at it from all angles.
The words roll from her mouth. "A finger guard for cutting and chopping." Her lips twist with the tiniest mock smile.
He stares at her with scorn but then his lips curl slowly in self-appreciative amusement.
"Where the heck did you find this?"
Donna shrugs. "It was in the kitchenware section at that Italian Deli on 3rd."
"That's too far to walk." Harvey eyes her suspiciously.
"I took a cab," she announces breezily but the quick swig she takes from her glass is a telltale sign for him.
Arching his eyebrow is enough for her to gulp and mutter, "I had my thumb on the emergency call button the whole ride."
"Donna, that is a huge step!" Harvey beams at her. "After a few good experiences, I'm sure the anxiety will fade and you can relax again during a cab ride."
His brown eyes blaze into hers with so much warmth that she flings herself into his arms. He stumbles slightly in surprise but wraps his arms around her anyway.
"Thank you, Harvey," Donna's muffled voice comes from his chest.
"You don't need to thank me," he whispers, pressing the softest kiss into her hair.
"You've been my biggest champion and it means more to me than I can ever put into words."
Her voice cracks a bit and he is pretty sure he detects a sniffle.
"It's only what you've been doing for me for the past thirteen years so—"
He absentmindedly strokes her back as he talks, sending goosebumps down her spine.
"As you said, that was professional, this is personal."
"Hasn't it always been pers—" Harvey trails off but his voice is soft and Donna starts talking at the same time.
"Which is why we need it to go back to being professional as soon as possible. I hired a company that will return my apartment in tip-top shape after what happened there." She shudders slightly. "And it should be ready for photos for the real estate website by the end of the week."
She pulls back slightly to gauge his reaction. He pastes on a neutral look but she thinks she saw something flicker across his face, just for a millisecond.
Harvey clears his throat. "Wow, you really don't want to be caught watching the paint dry." His voice rather strained. He drops his arms and she automatically steps away. He gathers the cutlery and starts to deck the dining table.
"It's a good thing right?" She asks, a tinge of apprehension in her voice.
She stiffens at the curt note in his reply. "Yes Donna, it's a good thing."