Author Notes:

Hello!

Okay, let me break a couple things down so you have an understanding of where my ADHD brain was going with this.

First, I had to do some research. I was annoyed at how hard it was to find any information on actual dates and timeframes for specific events in the show. I asked a few for help, and then did some digging and found a timeline here: (https/suits./wiki/Timeline)

Your guess is as good as mine in terms of how accurate it is. But for this fic, let's go with it!

Second, I was very interested in what Harvey was talking about when he tried to get Donna to testify on his behalf (when he tried to remind her of what she told him that night, classic Harvey, btw)

H: "About that time, you once told me."

D: "I don't care what I told you."

I asked around and everyone has their own idea of what he told her. But everyone has a similar theory of possibly Donna confessing some type of feeling for him or wanting something more, etc.

If you want to listen to some good commentary on the show and even a two-parter with Aaron K. click the link below. Anyway, enough of my bloviating.

I put my own spin on that night, what Donna said to him, and how it has shaped their relationship thus far.

Lastly, thank you to some special people:

Katy, Candice, and Amy, the three wisewomen! They see my writing at its worst. It's a wonder they keep answering emails from me. I have much love and much admiration for all three!!!As always, happy reading!

M

Podcast link: (https/open./show/7E4sIBiOWWCqGth4qJfhxA)

one more thing:

I love the idea of Donna being somewhat of a reader. Granted, she is so busy, but S9 shows her reading some and I would like to think she's into the classics.

Harvey likes movies; Donna likes Shakespeare and Jane Austen.

2003

Him

"What does it mean?" He asked her as his finger ran over the small lettering under her left breast.

Her nose scrunched at his question, and he chuckled at her expression. They were facing each other on their sides, their bodies naked, sweaty, and twisted in bedsheets.

"Big hot shot Harvard lawyer, and you don't know what it means?"

"I know what it means, Donna; I want to know what it means to you."

The bedroom window filtered in enough moonlight to let him study her face. Her eyes were soulful, and her lips were swollen from the number of times his own lips had been pressed against them. He brushed his thumb across her rosy cheeks, made even redder thanks to his five o'clock shadow.

She leaned into his hand. And for the first time in forever, he didn't want to run away. He just wanted to stay.

Stay with her.

"It's from Pride and Prejudice."

"I haven't seen it."

She sat up on her knees, and her naked body shimmered in a silvery glow against the faint darkness of the room. The sight of her took his breath away.

"Well, first. It's read not seen."

"Oh, that's why," he said teasingly, and she rolled her eyes.

He scooted closer to her. He didn't want to be away from her body any longer than he had to be. He ran his hands along her thigh, and she continued talking.

"After you read the book, then you can watch the movie."

He hummed into her skin as his lips met her hip. Her fingers ran through his hair, and she giggled.

"Donna. I am not going to read the book." His words on her skin made her body shiver.

"It's what Mr. Darcy tells Elizabeth," she said, her voice a little chocked as he continued to kiss her everywhere—her stomach, her torso.

"And why would he say that?" He asked her, coming up for air, then quickly returning to her skin. Goosebumps appeared on her flesh as he continued. Shoulder, clavicle, neck, ear...

"Because he wanted to tell her how much he loved and admired her." Her words trailed off into the subtle shadows of the space.

His face was next to hers, and Harvey tugged at her hips, bringing her to his lap, her legs wrapping around his waist.

"He was falling in love with her."

Her voice cracked, and Harvey smiled.

"And what did she say?" Another kiss, this time on Donna's cheek.

"She rejected him at first…" Her voice was a whisper, deep and low and full of need; it sent blood straight to his groin.

"And then?" A kiss on the lips, soft and sweet. He pulled away, tilting his head as he held her gaze.

"And then she falls in love with him."

"Ah," he said, sealing her words in with another kiss. This time, she parted her lips, and his tongue explored every warm and soft space in her mouth. Their breath mingled as their desire for each other intensified with every touch.

Donna's hands grasped at his back as she moved herself just above him, and then he slowly guided her down the length of him. She slowly rocked on top of him and together they found a lover's rhythm.

"Let me look at you. I want to see you come," he whispered once she pulled away from his kiss. She smiled at his request and tilted her head ever so slightly. He brushed her red hair from her face and her eyes bore into his soul. He recognized the look because he felt it, too. And any other time, it would scare him. But something about Donna made him feel safe.

They made love again, and while earlier that night it was vigorous and filled with hungry desire, this time was different. When they were done, her head rested on his chest, and they drifted off to sleep, but not before Donna whispered into the void of the room.

"My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."

His fingers glided along her arm; he smiled into the darkness.

It was the first thing he did when he left her apartment that afternoon. High on endorphins and Donna, he rented Pride and Prejudice (he sure as hell wasn't going to read the book).

He liked it well enough; it wasn't Top Gun or A Few Good Men , but it was Donna . And that was enough for him. He liked Darcy too; the poor guy was an ass but a misunderstood ass. He chuckled at the similarities. He called her after.

"Hey."

"Hey, yourself."

"It was okay. Mr. Darcy was an asshole at first. I like that about him."

"That doesn't surprise me. You need to read the book."

"Donna. I'm not gonna read the book."

"Fine. Gotta go. Dinner with my dad. Telling him about my job offers."

"Okay. Can I see you tomorrow?"

"If you're lucky, yes."

He did see her the next day. But it wasn't what they both expected.

When Harvey got the job offer from Jessica, he panicked.

Harvey couldn't see himself without her in his life. As far as he saw it, he only had two options: He could take a chance with this thing they had just started—and while it felt really good and really right, it was also very, very risky.

On the other hand, if he asked her to come back to his desk, he would avoid the entire mess because she had her rule, and the risk would be avoided. It was a guarantee that she would be in his life. He would have to get over whatever this was between them.

Maybe it was a cowardly choice, or maybe it was just calculated. But whatever the intent, It was really the only option.

And that was it. He asked her. She said yes, and they could never speak of it again.

It being "them".

Complicated.

Present day

Harvey waited by the car for her, lost in thought. Her apartment had a way of doing that. It reminded him of that night. The night they don't speak about, but somehow it's never very far from either one of their lips.

He remembered every detail. Every inch of her body. Every curve, mole, and freckle. Parts of her he had seen but no longer had access to. Most nights when he was alone, her skin was still on his fingertips, and the memory of her—under him, on top of him, all around him.

It might have been pathetic to admit, but most nights when he was alone, his thoughts of their night together easily contributed to his personal release . And to this day, anytime she wore pink to work, it reminded him of the bedsheets they laid twisted together in.

And then there was the tattoo—in tiny letters, most ardently , under her left breast.

And that's the rub—the friction between them. Because it wasn't the tattoo; it was what she spoke into the darkness. And the thing about words is that you can never take them back.

"My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."

They were always there. Her words lingered between them in the quiet moments. He never brought up the tattoo again or the meaning behind it. He stored it away deep inside, hoping that he would eventually forget.

So, of course, when Steven entered the picture, it bothered him. He wasn't stupid; he knew Donna had other lovers, boyfriends, whatever. But they had never crossed into their world—the world of Donna and Harvey .

Every time he saw Steven, he was reminded that he wasn't the only one who had access to her body. Did Steven see her tattoo? Did he know what it meant? Did she talk to Steven the way she talked to him? Did she say the same words to him? Harvey felt sick at the thought and shoved it out of his mind.

The car ride embodied the usual banter between them. It began with light-hearted raillery but inevitably escalated into playful flirting, and it always ended with one of them daringly crossing the line—only to pull back when things got a bit too real.

It's the dance they did. And he supposed it would be like that until Donna got tired of him. But he wasn't lying when he told her he'd fight for them

They decided to walk to the office. Hermes was only a twenty-minute walk, and the weather was nice, and considering he ate way too much, a walk sounded like a good idea

"Donna."

She had been quiet since they left the store. He took notice; she had a far-off look on her face, and he could tell she was mulling over something. He wanted to let it go. But when it came to Donna, he just couldn't.

"Earth to Donna?"

"What? I'm sorry." She said, slowing down her strides, and he did the same.

"You okay? You've been quiet since we left the store."

"Hmhmm, I have?" She stopped now and faced him. "Sorry."

They were in the middle of the busy sidewalk, so he took her hand and led her to an outside breezeway away from the pedestrian traffic.

"What's going on?" He asked, preparing his argument for another round of what-if's.

She shifted her weight and rested one hand on her hip.

"Just thinking," she said pensively.

And just like that, he blurted out the only thing he knew that would put this whole mess to bed for good until the next time.

"Donna, I think you should know I'm trying to make things work with Scottie. And this," he said, waving his hand in the empty space between them. "It's complicated, and it doesn't have to be. And for us, there is no room for anything else. You said so yourself."

Saying it and believing it were two very different things. And he had the best bluff game in town.

She nodded, and he continued, "So what if Steven threw you off your game? It happens to the best of us—well, not all of us." He winked, and she scoffed at his implied immunity to being taken advantage of.

"Harvey, I don't want..."

"Let me finish, Donna. This. This is how it has to be. It's for the best."

"For who?"

"For the firm, for me," he said. Instantly regretting the selfish nature of his statement. But it was their agreement. She was his girl Friday, and not his girl .

Wasn't it? He thought.

She looked down at her feet, and for a second, he thought she might fight him because, deep down, he wanted her to. He wanted her to convince him he was wrong.

But she didn't. Instead, she let him win this one. And maybe it was the last win, but it was for the best.

He convinced himself (and her) as much

"You're right, Harvey. But you have to do one more thing for me."

"Anything." He meant it. He would do anything.

"You're buying coffee."

She smiled a confident smile. The one that made him question himself—the one that made him want to fall on his knees and beg her for forgiveness.

This is how it had to be, he repeated to himself in his head.

"Don't I always buy?"

"True. But this time, you're bringing it to my desk." She said, then continued with a firm voice. "See you upstairs."

He watched her walk away. But not before he called out, "Hey!"

She turned around, still walking backward, and he wondered how she did it with those heels on.

"Hey yourself," she said, returning a wink and smiling.

"We okay?"

"Yeah, Harvey, we're okay.

Her face said something else. And he understood because they were complicated and he loved her, but he didn't want to lose her.

She turned around and raised her arms in a V-shape, shopping bags in one and purse in the other. And to Harvey's visual pleasure, her hips swayed as she walked. He couldn't help but laugh.

She left him there, and he suddenly felt alone without her.

Complicated.