AN: Here it is, guys — the final chapter (six chapters and an epilogue!). This one comes with a warning for violence/peril and emotional distress, though it's tamer than some of my other fics, haha. Thank you for all the reviews and comments! I've gotten suggestions that make me think I might write an opening for a sequel in the epilogue... something I can flesh out more plot-wise, we'll see ;) I've really just been here having a bit of fun, and fun did I have!

…

Climbing the steps of her brownstone, a wave of unease washes over Donna. Pausing, she scans the street.

It's mid-afternoon, and the neighborhood is buzzing with activity; a gardener tending to the trees, a couple strolling hand in hand, and the mailman on his route. Between the threatening flowers she received and Harvey's absence, she hasn't felt safe — everybody seems suspicious.

"Everything okay, Ms. Paulsen?"

Her new security detail questions her, his brow furrowing slightly.

"I'm Fine, Alex. Just… missing home, I guess." She pulls her gaze from the street, shaking off the sense she's being watched.

In a few more weeks, she'll be back in L.A., surrounded by friends and family. This ordeal will just be a nightmare she can leave behind.

Continuing forward, Alex notes the red Mustang parked two streets down, irritated by the vehicle's presence. Shit, he doesn't blame Donna for being on edge; he would be too if he were being unknowingly watched. But it's not her stalker tailing them.

Scottie told him that Harvey had gone rogue. Only being new to the firm, he doesn't know much about the man, but he doesn't appreciate the agent lurking around. It's a distraction he could do without, but Scottie also warned him not to go poking bears. Just keep his focus on their client and ensure she's protected.

Following Donna inside, he secures the door behind them. "Stay here."

He does a quick sweep of the rental, and when everything checks out, he goes to retrieve Donna, who's waiting anxiously in the lobby. "All clear, Ms. Paulsen."

"Thanks. I think I'll go upstairs and run some lines."

She gives him a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes, a fleeting expression that vanishes as quickly as it appeared.

Alex watches her retreat upstairs, unable to match her quiet demeanor with the gossip that's been flying around the office. He was under the impression that she could be difficult, with a larger-than-life personality and little regard for her safety while working. But the woman he's been shadowing has been reserved and compliant, cutting her engagements short to come home.

If he were to get involved, he'd guess that something other than fear was at play. More like a damaged heart. And damn, it seems like Harvey really screwed the pooch on this one.

The agent has a sterling reputation, but Alex wonders if the actual man behind the gun can live up to all the hype?

…

Harvey fights a yawn, taking another sip of coffee as he keeps a late-night vigil outside Donna's rental. Scottie is back as her detail, and he's more at ease, even though he has nothing against Williams. The guy came with high recommendations, but the agent is new and still learning the ropes. Although, granted, he's a better choice than Tanner would have been.

Donna would've hunted him down and castrated him if he'd let that happen, and Jesus… he can't help but miss that cute little dimple between her brows when she's scolding him.

For two weeks, he's been telling himself he has no other option except to move on. When her contract ends, she'll go back to L.A., her fame elevated by her new movie, and she'll probably hire a permanent team to handle her security. The problem is, the inevitable is coming around fast.

Soon, she won't be his responsibility anymore, and a dull ache in his chest drives him to pick up the stack of background checks on the passenger seat.

He encouraged the firm hired by the studio to hand them over and has been cross-checking them with all members of staff. He's searching for anyone who might have had the motive to send the courier service detailed instructions on how to access Donna's trailer, his gut telling him the perpetrator is the same person responsible for the lighting rig collapse.

Flipping through the pages, he checks every detail twice, using his flask of caffeine to keep him alert. An hour in, he notes movement in his peripheral vision that makes him uneasy.

The time on the dash reads 2:27am. It's Friday, so not unusual for someone to be wandering home late, but there's something alarmingly familiar about the woman lighting up a cigarette.

She passes under a street lamp, giving him a glimpse of her face that's partially obscured by a black hoodie, and his hands fly through the papers in his lap.

Carol Conner.

He studies the photo of the studio's landscaper.

Outside the venue where Donna was almost killed, the security footage showed a gardening van parked on the street. And earlier this week, there was a gardener tending to all the properties in the area; same height and build as Conner. He's positive the connections aren't a coincidence.

Grabbing his phone, he dials Scottie's number, tracking the woman heading toward Donna's rental. When the call connects, he doesn't waste time. "Scottie, I need you to listen to me. There's a — "

His warning is swallowed by a fireball engulfing the Jacaranda trees shrouding the brownstone, the result of Conner flicking her cigarette.

"Get Donna out, now! CODE AMBER!"

The line crackles with interference, and he bursts out of the Mustang as the blaze moves with impossible speed, clinging to the rafters and anything flammable. Which seems to be everything. Conner must have doused the palce with an accelerant right under his fucking nose.

With no time to pursue her, he yanks open his trunk, grabbing the small extinguisher he keeps for emergencies. It won't do shit against the inferno, but it might get him inside so he can warn Scottie that the fire's unstable.

Ignoring the danger, he pushes through the blistering heat and thick smoke, blasting a foam path that gets him to the door — flames leaping up behind him. He shoulders his way through the smoldering wood, fumes and sparks chasing him inside.

Donna muffles a scream when she sees Harvey, freezing in place, terrified by the wall of crackling fire. Dana moves to grab him, pulling the coughing idiot back from the all-consuming blaze.

Wheezing, he tries to catch his breath. "Accelerant… basement. Go!"

Her eyes widen as she understands his warning: an explosion could tear through the building at any second.

"I'll be right behind you," he barks.

Donna breaks free from her paralysis, wriggling out of Dana's bruising hold. She's not going anywhere without him. "We're not leaving you."

Harvey grabs her chin, subduing her stubbornness with a fierce kiss. She tastes like smoky courage and sweet desire, the rush of need in him, igniting his resolve. The basement is their safest gamble, but it's not fireproof. He can't send them all down there defenseless.

Breaking the kiss, he growls softly in her ear, "For once, listen to me."

More smoke billows in, stinging Donna's eyes, her fight weakened by his plea. Trusting him, she allows Dana to drag her away, the woman pushing her around corners toward the cellar door. She clambers down the steps with dizzying incoordination. Leaving Harvey behind isn't right; her instincts screaming at her to go back — when a violent tremor rocks the foundations

Her knees crash to the cement floor, her body shielded by Dana as dust and soot pours down front the support beams. Then everything stills into a haunting silence, the only sound her labored breathing while her racing thoughts kick back into motion.

Harvey.

"No!"

Dana rushes to stop the hysterical woman, latching her arms around Donna's waist. "You can't go up there."

"Let go of me!"

"Not until you calm down!" She snaps the order. Unlike Donna, she doesn't have the luxury of showing her emotions. Harvey made his choice, and they have to be rational. "Breathe, okay? Take a deep breath."

She can't, fast tears erupting. Harvey wasn't supposed to be here. He cut all ties with her. Why would he come back and risk his life like an idiot?

Her strength wanes as she squirms in Dana's arms, turning to face the woman. "I'll do whatever you want. Just please, go find him."

Protocol states that Dana should assess if there's a safe way out, and Donna's desperation makes her inclined to believe the redhead will stay put. "You don't move from this cellar, understand me?"

She unintentionally gives her emotions a small foothold, choosing to have faith in the woman's meek nod. Shaking the adrenaline from her hands, she ascends the steps, testing the doorknob with the back of her hand. It's warm but not hot — a good sign, but it leaves Harvey's fate uncertain.

Covering her mouth and nose, she cracks the door, faced with smoking debris and spot fires which confirm her theory that an explosion ripped through the ground floor, burning up the accelerant.

The chances of Harvey surviving are impossibly slim, but it's safe to step out, her heart wrenching at the sickening thought of finding his body.

She wipes her teary eyes, steeling herself against the real possibility. And yet, she's fueled by the fact that Harvey would want her to protect Donna from the traumatic sight.

God, that man.

He wouldn't shed a tear for his own family, but his loyalty to the people he cares about is unparalleled.

Navigating the debris, she starts toward the kitchen. That's where he would have been going — valiantly running to get the fire extinguisher and supplies to keep Donna safe.

Entering the burning remains, she shields her face from the smoke, her shoes crunching over glass from the blown-out patio doors.

A nearby groan makes her heart stutter in her chest. "Harvey?!"

She follows a rustling sound to a nook in the kitchen and finds him wrapped in a fire blanket, struggling to get out from underneath a sheet of charred plywood.

Helping him up, she doesn't care that he holds his ribs with a tender wince. She punches his arm, hard. "What the fuck were you thinking?!"

"Donna?"

Of course. What else would blind him?

"She's in the basement, waiting for the all clear. She's fine."

"Harvey!"

Donna shouts from behind her, and Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, the insubordinate pair are made for each other. She quickly moves to avoid being bowled over as Donna runs, flinging her arms around his neck.

Harvey catches Donna's waist, flinching as he squeezes her tightly. Injuries be damned. He threads his fingers through her hair, kissing the crown of her head and whispering praise for listening to him and staying alive. "That's my girl."

"I thought…"

She gulps, her tears dampening his shirt, and he knows how she felt, because for a heartbeat, he shared the same fear. If the patio doors hadn't vented the explosion, he wouldn't be standing here, holding her.

But he is.

"It's not your job to worry, remember?"

As sweet and rare as Harvey's comfort is, the groaning, burning foundations beckon urgency, and Dana interrupts them. "No, it's ours. We need to get out of here."

Harvey hides his discomfort as he picks up the singed fire blanket, wrapping it around Donna's shoulders. "You good?"

"Yeah."

Her pallor defies her reassurance. She's not okay, and he wouldn't expect her to be. But her hand is steady as he takes it, and he's not prepared to separate them until he knows for sure they're out of danger.

Even then, he might have a hard time letting go.

…

Dana brushes Harvey's shoulder as he joins her in the private hospital's waiting room, glad to relay some good news. "Jessica called. The police have Conner in custody."

Thank God. Harvey exhales, holding his wrapped ribs as he moves to the nearest chair, gingerly sitting down. "Did she confess?"

"To everything." Dana sits beside him. According to their boss, it was a classic case of crazy ex-wife syndrome.

Conner's former husband had an obsession with Donna's movies, and when the military soldier filed for divorce, Conner lost it. Jessica said that the woman jumped at the chance to play the victim, telling the police all the ways she'd been wronged by society and an unloving husband. Details she'll give to Harvey when he doesn't look like death warmed over.

"I'll fill you in later." She hands him her coffee. If she asked what the doctor diagnosed, he'd only brush her off. So she hedges a safer bet. "How's Donna doing?"

The caffeine is a godsend, and he hums gratefully at the simple pleasure. The sun was just starting to rise when the ambulance brought them here, and as soon as Donna finishes up with her healthcare paperwork, he might just sleep for a week.

"She'll be fine. You know what she's like. Probably be back on set tomorrow like nothing happened."

Dana smirks. He might be right. If there's anyone other than Harvey who can compartmentalize to get the job done, it's the stubborn redhead he nearly got flambéed saving. "How much are you going to pay me to fudge the incident report?"

He chuckles, leaning his head against the wall. "Nothing. I'm too tired to care."

She steals her coffee back, nudging his thigh with her knee. "Really? You want me to say that the reason you ran into a burning building is because instead of taking leave, you've been working without a handheld permit or insurance, tailing a client after you slept with them?"

Her tone grates against Harvey's momentary peace. "Jessica's going to fire me, isn't she?"

Dana grins. "She might not fire you, but she's definitely going to kill you."

"Fifty bucks. You say I was already in the house and nothing about the other thing."

If his boss finds out he crossed the line with Donna, she'll do worse than just kill him.

"Deal."

He sighs in relief. If Scottie keeps her word, he might just escape another life-or-death situation.

"Wait… "

Her blackmailing him suddenly switches on a lightbulb. "You knew I was keeping tabs?"

She rolls her eyes. "I'd be shitty protection if I didn't. I gave Alex the heads-up as well. But don't worry, Donna didn't suspect a thing." Her lips curve around a smirk. "Although, the princess might have some questions after this."

He winces. If there's one thing Donna loves, it's raking him across hot coals for answers.

"You could make all our lives easier and just come back," Dana pushes. "And don't tell me she'd be safer in someone else's hands because we both know that's bullshit."

He shifts unconformably. Maybe she's right. Yet, had he been the one inside with Donna, he wouldn't have known about the accelerant or the fire until it was too late.

"It's complicated."

"It always is with you."

There's no animosity behind the comment. She realized a long time ago that she wouldn't be the one to bust his heart wide open. But now that Donna has, she wants to help him navigate his way to happiness. Because there are more important things than pride. "I've never told you this… but when we were fooling around, I wanted something more serious."

Harvey glances across, assuming she's trying to provoke him, but the touch of embarrassment behind her sheepish smile tells him she's being truthful. He frowns, confused. "You never said anything."

"I didn't think you'd fight for me." She shrugs, giving him a dose of reality. "You would have panicked the second I asked for more, and I didn't want to risk our friendship."

His doubtful look is all ego, and she tests him. "Come on. Would you really have wanted to settle down? Disclose to Jessica, make an honest woman out of me?"

That's the last thing he would have wanted, and he sighs. He thought they were having some fun, that's all. He had no idea she'd felt differently. "You should have said something."

"If you'd looked at me the way you look at Donna, I might have. But I don't have any regrets, Harvey, and neither should you." She addresses his hesitation confidently. "Fight for what you want. Stop hiding behind rules that only apply when it suits you."

The door swings open and Harvey's gaze locks onto Donna, her tired smile awakening his need to pull her close. Scottie grins smugly next to him, but he doesn't care, his knuckles grazing Donna's side as he stands next to them.

"What happens now?" she asks.

He takes all of three seconds to weigh up Scottie's advice. "You're coming home with me. No arguments."

There's no complaint from her, and Dana's smile softens. It wouldn't surprise her if at the end of the actress's contract Harvey considers a change of scenery.

Somewhere warm and by the beach, where Hollywood dreams can come true.

...

As soon as Harvey and Donna arrive at his condo, the first thing he does is suggest they shower, and they're both in agreement.

He insists she take the master bathroom while he uses the guest room's ensuite, and Donna doesn't argue about that either.

Washing the soot and grime from her body, her emotions swirl emptily around her head. She's definitely in shock, and until Harvey explains himself, she won't make any assumptions about why she's here. Taking her time, she prioritizes her own needs, letting the spray massage her into a relaxed state. When she's ready, she steps out, dries off, and throws on the sweats Harvey left for her.

A pang of regret stirs in her chest. There hadn't been time to take anything except the phone she'd smuggled in her pocket, but it seems trivial to mourn her luxurious dresses when she barely escaped the fire with her life. So instead, she goes seeking her answers.

Wandering into the living area, she glances around, taking in Harvey's home properly. Like the bedroom, there are very few personal effects — no photos or plants, just model fighter jets and a creepy statue by the fireplace.

Harvey is in the kitchen, making tea, and she clears her throat. "Nice apartment. It's..."

He glances over his shoulder, prompting her with a smirk. "Suave?"

"I was going to say sparse."

Filling up two mugs, he rolls his eyes. "Sit down. I'll bring these over."

"I'd rather stand."

Her flat tone doesn't come as a suprise. Ever since they left the hospital, he's been expecting her to confront him.

Placing the cups on the marble counter, he moves around to her side, pulling out a stool. She can be as stubborn as she likes. His ribs are a bigger pain in the ass, and he holds then as carefully lowers himself.

Donna can see he's in pain, but so is she. And she's been hurting for longer. "You left me."

"I had to."

"Why?"

He tilts his head at her narrow gaze. She's an intelligent woman, and he warned her what would happen if they crossed a line. He shouldn't have to explain himself. "You know why."

"I thought I did."

He cut her off, and she pegged him as a coward with zero emotional intelligence. Except, he didn't run away. Obviously, he was still working the case, and watching out for her.

"I thought you didn't care, that you weren't coming back. But then you show up at the exact right moment to save my life — "

"You're welcome."

" — and now I'm here, in your apartment—"

"Which you've already complained about."

"—wearing your clothes, drinking your tea," she finishes. Not that she's anywhere near done. "For someone who likes to keep business and pleasure separate, you're throwing out some very mixed signals. So tell me, is it protocol to bring your cleints home with you?"

"No, it's not.'

"Then why am I here?"

"Would you rather be somewhere else?"

"That's not the point, Harvey!"

Her expression crumples in frustration, and Harvey grins at the dimple between her brows. "You're cute when you're mad."

Her eyes widen with indignation, and he quickly reaches for her hand before she can fully unleash on him.

"You're here because I don't want you anywhere else." Growing serious, he tugs her closer.

After his shower, while he was rewrapping his bruised ribs, he thought about that Scottie said at the hospital. Bringing Donna home was an impulsive decision, but even with Conner in custody, he wouldn't have felt right sending her off to a hotel with Alex.

This feels right. Her fingers cupped in his, her face flush with life, and her soft pout begging for an apology — one she's not going to get. "I left to protect you and I'd do it again. I could've handled things differently, and I wish you hadn't gotten hurt in the process. But I'd rather have you standing here pissed at me than the alternative."

She gnaws her inner cheek, huffing. "Who says I'm angry?"

"Well, you seem to have an issue with my space, drinking my tea and wearing my clothes."

"That's not… I don't — "

"Fortunately, I can help with the latter."

He smiles smugly at her, and Donna takes a deep breath. The man is impossible. "Stop alluding. If you have something to say, then say it."

Sliding his palm down to her waist, he sighs lightly. Women always want a Romeo, and that's not him. But his words come easily.

"You're headstrong and half the time insufferable. You're confident when you should be careful. You drive me crazy. And I can't figure out how all of that makes you perfect, but it does. So however we can make a relationship work, I want to try."

Donna's irrationan melts, her lips curving into smile. It's not the most conventional compliment she's ever been given, but it's genuine. What they have could be real, and she wants to try too. "I think about. One one condition."

He smirks. "Why am not surprised?"

"You add that I'm also brilliant, gorgeous, and always right to that list of yours."

Her grin sweeps down and he chuckles against her lips. "We can negotiate the last point."

"Later."

He completely agrees, the warmth of her kiss spreading through him as he clutches her waist, determined to keep her in his arms for as long as he can.

There's no guarantee they'll have a plan in place when her contract ends in two weeks, but he's sure of one thing: he's going to fight for them. Because any man lucky enough to have her would be a fool to lose her.