Suits Undressed | S01 E07 · Play the man

by AnonymousDH

Summary: When Scottie returns to New York, and Mike makes a mess of his mock trial, many things become clear for Donna and Harvey.

She feels his right hand on the small of her back the second the elevator door closes behind them. The gesture is not just a brush; when his hand moves lower, it's definitely not accidental. She feels her heart skip a beat when he manages to turn her around, and then her back is against the mirrored wall, and his lips ghost her ear.

She hears him say something about some case, and deep down, she knows she should take note, store this information somewhere, but none of it registers when his left-hand moves from her waist to cup her breast, and she can't help but gasp when his hand caresses her butt, causing her leg to hook around his thigh out of its own will.

She only registers the ding of the elevator announcing they've arrived at their private suite because both of her feet lift from the ground when another strong arm wraps around her frame. She brings her own around his shoulder, burying her face in the crook of his neck as Harvey carries her.

His smell overwhelms her. It's his signature Tom Ford cologne; he's had it for years. He switched to it the day they moved to Pearson Hardman. Just being in his tiny office back in the day would give her the fix she told herself she didn't need after the other time.

But inhaling it right from the source, that tangy mixture of dried fruits, a hint of vanilla and something so quintessentially Harvey, makes her head spin and her heart skip a beat. It can only be a step of ten before she feels her body being set down on the edge of a desk. Even though she's gotten to smell it up close and personal quite frequently these last couple of weeks and knows that at the end of their 'meeting', she'll smell like it herself, she still misses the loss when he increases the distance between them as his hands slip back down to her thighs and under the hem of her skirt.

She takes a moment to simply look at him, then at his face, those lips, and that mischievous sparkle in his eyes. She can't help but trace every familiar feature with the tip of her fingers as if she has to remind herself that this is real, that this – the way his fingers dance over the delicate skin of her thighs, tracing the edge of her lace thong - is what they do now – even if she doesn't know what it means or where it leaves them.

Her mind doesn't get a chance to wander to the unspoken question when she feels him suck on her thumb at the same time he slips his between her legs, pressing the moist fabric against her clit in a circular motion. She has to bite down on her lip to muffle a moan threatening to spill out of her at the sight in front of her.

Harvey Specter with his hair ruffled, his tie undone, and that cocky smirk on his face. And even though she's seen this magnificent man in front of her nearly every day for a decade, seen him age, the wrinkles near his eyes as he laughs are the proof of that. The smirk he gives her now takes her back to the first time they did this.

And in a way, she still feels the same excitement and anticipation of what's to come. The question now is just how often and how fast.

As if in direct response to her last thought, she feels two of his skilful fingers slip into her panties at that exact moment, spreading her desire over her slit up to her bundle of nerves, extracting a breathy moan from the redhead, whose hips rise in accord in search for more friction. She whimpers when he circles her clit one more time before sliding his thick fingers into her.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she hears every single thing he utters to spur her on as he pumps his fingers in and out of her, but all she can focus on is how she feels. How her pulse quickens, how her flushed cheeks turn crimson red and how the pressure in between her legs builds up, and up and up until it all comes crashing down in waves when he tells her to come for him.

A chuckle rolls off of her tongue as she comes down from her high, her gaze still locked with his eyes. She thinks she sees her happiness mirrored in his, but even after weeks of meetings like these, it's a thought too scary to entertain. So when he withdraws his hand and leans in to kiss her at last, she brings his fingers to her mouth instead, licking them clean.

"Fuck, Donna."

"Donna."

She snaps out of her thoughts at the sound of her name. It's pronounced in a voice that doesn't belong to him. Donna schools her features and redirects her gaze from her screen to the young lawyer in front of her cubicle. "Michael?"

She listens to the pup's spiel about the firm's annual mock trial, Rachel, Kyle, and whatever advice Harvey has already given him, including how he could use her help. "Harvey already gave you advice?"

"Well," Mike mutters, "yeah, but-"

"Then why are you here?" She motions to the mountain of files on her desk, waiting to be processed. "Just do what Harvey would do," she adds, dismissing the kid with a flick of her wrist. Her gaze returns to the file in front of her again. Her last sentence becomes repeated in her mind.

What Harvey would do.

What Harvey does.

What Harvey is doing.

Or rather, who Harvey is doing.

"Fuck, Dana." – is probably closer to the truth than her fantasy just was. It's almost a given. No, a definite given. It's what she tells herself. She knows what it is like when it comes to the two lawyers.

It's her fault, really.

These past few weeks have been thrilling, finally crossing that one boundary they've managed to uphold for years, but she shut it down every time the possibility of a conversation even lingered in the near future. Afraid of what putting it into words could do to them, and now time has caught up on them.

When the call came that morning, it took her by surprise. And she knows, rationally, that she should have given Harvey a heads-up before sending him off to that hotel. But she also knows that if she'd done so, she'd have been unable to school her features. She would've been unable to deliver the news without any hint of underlying irritation.

Jealousy even.

Because Donna Paulsen doesn't get jealous, and she's never been envious of the female lawyer before, but that was before. That was when they hadn't crossed the line again, and she could barely remember how he kissed her.

Now, the memories are fresh.

Now the feelings she long told herself weren't there are –

She takes a deep breath and tosses the file to the side. Leaning back in her chair, she swivels around and faces his empty office, counting every second and every minute of this meeting she doesn't want to think about, but her mind won't let her.

And it's another excruciating twenty-three minutes until she hears the familiar cadence of his Oxfords crossing the hallway towards her desk. She breathes in once and sits a little taller, and before he has the chance to speak, she does.

"How did the negotiation go? Did you come out on top?"

The double entendre in her question doesn't go unnoticed to him; had this been months ago, he'd probably have indulged her insinuation with an answer. But this is now, this is after –

Harvey swallows thickly. "Why didn't you tell me Scottie was opposing counsel?"

He watches the redhead come out of her chair and close the distance between them, as much as she's always professionally allowed between them. It makes no sense; they're at the office after all, but given how she kept this from him, it irks him the same way.

"I didn't want you to have performance anxiety."

His gaze narrows a little, and his jaw sets. He knows where she's getting at with her comments and the carefree smile she delivers it with, makes him feel a little uneasy. She's supposed to know him, know his character and what he would and wouldn't do.

He knows they haven't exactly talked about what's happening between them, and he isn't sure he's ready to have that conversation either. It's exciting not having to comply to her rule, exciting to just be them, in a way they've never really been. Deep down, a part of him knows that if they were to define this, whatever the hell it is, there's a possibility of it all coming to an end.

He isn't ready for that either.

So he leans in a little and lowers his voice just so. "You know I don't suffer from that."

"Not with me, you don't."

"Donna –"

Her stomach flips at the way he says her name. It's just five letters, but there are countless ways for him to say them and she's always known which intonation means what, except this one. This one she doesn't know.

"Harvey, relax," she teases him, but she tells it to herself too. "Whatever you have with her is one thing, and what we have is another."

He doesn't get the chance to comment because she steps away, and he spots Mike walking over to them out of the corner of his eye. He guides the kid to his office as he listens to him go off about giving the worst advice known to humankind, but all he can think about is her statement.

She's right, even when she's wrong.

Because he doesn't have anything with Scottie, he only had things with her.

That much became apparent this morning when she blindsided him not only by being opposing counsel but also by kissing him the second Vegas and Jones left them alone to discuss the details of the merger.

He pulled away instantly, on pure instinct. He might not know what he is to Donna, but he knows what he isn't to himself. He's not his mother. He's no cheater. And even if Donna would allow him liberties, he wouldn't act on them.

Scottie's lips part in surprise as she watches him realise he has stepped away. A first since their three cases against one another post-Harvard. She doesn't wait for a verbal explanation on his part, instead, she offers her own. "There's someone else."

There is, but there isn't. He isn't sure, but he sure as hell doesn't want to discuss this with Scottie. So he lies. "No, there's not – "

"It's Donna."

She says it so certainly, without any hint of accusation, that the truth almost blindsides him. It's Donna. Maybe deep down, it's always been Donna. It will probably always be Donna.

"I tried to settle, and I got completely blindsided."

Harvey's gaze drifts to the cubicle in front of his office for a second or two. Catches the redhead typing away as if their earlier conversation never happened, as if everything is the way it's been for years.

Except it's not. Not anymore.

At least, that's what it is for him.

What if it isn't for her? What if that's why she's insinuating about his extracurricular activities with Scottie. What if this doesn't mean anything to her at all?

"I told you to win," he says then, clearing his throat. "Not to be stupid."

Her fingers absentmindedly drum against her desk, it's been twenty four hours since that interaction with Harvey and he has been all business since. He hasn't been all business since, well that other interaction.

The uncertainty is driving her up the wall. She doesn't want to know if something happened with Scottie or not. Deep down, she knows him, knows his character, and knows what he would and wouldn't do given his history with his mother, but they haven't defined what they are or what their actions mean.

Nearly a decade of following her rule meant work was work, and anything more was not for them. Until recently, that is. The sex is fantastic, even better now than the other time, but with each rendezvous, a little chip of the wall she so carefully crafted around her heart comes crumbling down, and if she isn't careful, she'll get buried underneath it.

If she's honest with herself, she knows she has to talk to him before things get messy. She wants to ask, no tell him, to be exclusive. She almost chuckles at her thoughts, because besides his suits, his scotch and her working for him, Harvey doesn't do exclusive, not when it comes to women.

Some last a few days. Two weeks tops.

They're past the two-month mark, and bringing it up feels like ending it all. And it may be for the best, but the truth is, she can't go back. Not anymore.

So when Donna spots Mike making his way over to her desk that morning, she pretends to cry. She tells him she could do the single Demi Moore tear left or right eye and begs him to let her play Lena Lunders for him in the mock trial – but only because she needs to distract herself from Harvey.

Harvey smiles to himself when he hears Mike's questioning coming from the library, finally, the kid seems to be doing what he told him to do. Win the damn case. He stalls in the door opening, behind the other partners and therefore out of sight for her.

But he can see her. Sitting at the table as Mike's witness and he chuckles to himself because of course she'd help the kid. He watches the way she watches Mike ask question after question, her smile proud until it turns sour. He redirects his attention to the mock trial again.

"People who can cut it."

"I can cut it!"

The room falls silent after that. Harvey watches the tension build between his associate and the paralegal. He notices the curious look on Jessica's face and he sees Donna's concern. He doesn't need to hear the ending to know he lost the bet to Louis, but he stays and watches it unfold.

Donna stays behind as the library dissolves, hearing Jessica tell Mike he's naïve and soft and that they aren't qualities they're looking for at Pearson Hardman. She thinks differently about that but doesn't say so. She feels his gaze on her then, and when she turns to look over her shoulder, she sees him shake his head in disappointment before he walks away.

The redhead bites down on her lip and waits for Jessica to leave. When Mike returns to the table, she hands him the files. "You made the right call."

Mike scoffs and shrugs. "They don't seem to think so."

She offers him a small smile in return. "Don't go for drinks with the rest of them before you talk to Harvey."

"What would I even say to him?"

"Just ask if he needs help on his case."

It doesn't feel right showing his face, but Donna told him to, and she's usually right about these things so he gives her one last nod as she rounds the barrier of her cubicle, and he steps forward to knock on the glass door. He lets himself in before Harvey has a chance to look up. "You need anything? Because otherwise, I'm going to head out."

"Celebratory drinks with the associates." It's not a question or an accusation: just facts, how it's been handled for years.

"Yes."

"And what exactly are you celebrating?" he counters. He doesn't need to look to know Donna is shooting him a disapproving look. He can't help himself anyway.

Mike shakes his head, momentarily looking back at Donna. "You know what? You can save the disappointment, Harvey. I know what I did."

"Do you?" Harvey counters, leaning back in his chair. "Because what I saw is that you backed off because you were worried about hurting your girlfriend's feelings."

"It was a fake trial, all right. I weighed the pros and cons and decided it wasn't worth hurting someone for the result."

"The result is you just told every partner in this firm, including myself, that you have a weak stomach. You don't have what it takes."

"You know, you keep telling me that I have to decide what kind of lawyer I want to be. And if I were smart, I'd probably be just like you. Because everybody knows you're the best. But I'm also trying to decide what kind of person I want to be. And sometimes, I like my kind of person a lot more than yours."

She holds her breath when she hears the words coming from Mike. She told the kid to talk to him, and she knows he can be an ass sometimes, but this was not what she expected to happen. She's on the edge of her seat, ready to step in and calm the situation when she hears his rebuttal.

"You want to know what kind of person I am? Tough, but fair. I call it like I see it. And what I see is a kid who asked for an opportunity and still hasn't decided if he wants it or not."

She knows he's talking about Mike and his potential career, but his words also ring close to their situation. It was she who cornered him in the bar with that drink. Not just all those years ago but that night after they hired Mike.

He's not surprised to see the redhead enter his office just after Mike storms off; he is, however surprised when she doesn't immediately tell him Mike was wrong about him. "Do you really think he doesn't have what it takes?"

He sighs and shakes his head. "I just wanted him to win."

She nods, walks over to his decanter, and pours a tumbler of scotch for both of them. "You don't always win."

He bobs his head to the side and takes the glass from her hand as she sits on the edge of his desk. "I do when I go to court."

"Well, that's because we have the ritual," she counters, lifting her glass in a silent toast. She brings it to her lips to calm her sudden nerves.

He wants to counter how he sure as hell wasn't going to do or let her do the ritual with Mike, but he doesn't. Instead, his gaze fixates on the way her lips touch the glass. It's been three days since he's last had the privilege to taste and feel them. She's so close, he could just stand up and kiss her, but something has shifted these last couple of days, and he isn't sure she wants him to anymore.

He swallows once, downs his glass and places it next to her empty one when he's done. His hand is now awfully close to her thigh. If he were to lift his thumb, he'd touch her.

"It was just a mock trial, you know."

He drags his gaze from her thigh to her face. She smiles at him and he can't help but return the sentiment. "I know, it's just –"

"Three months in, you went head to head with Jenkins."

He hums. "And it was legendary."

Donna tilts her head to the side, one eyebrow raised.

"Wasn't it?"

"It was," she says because she admitted as much to Mike. "But- "

She doesn't need to tell him what happened. He remembers it all too well how eager he had been for the win. How he, the only associate with a secretary (one with a theatre major), managed to have her play his witness. Except Jenkins hadn't played by the books, and even though it was just a role she was playing, seeing her take the heat for one misinterpretable line out of his opening statement had made him decide to flip the script, too. He did settle that time, just like he told Mike, but it wasn't solely because he wanted to outsmart the partners.

He sighs and looks back up at her. She doesn't have to ask him, "What if it was me in that seat?" He doesn't have to say, "That was different", because they both know he did exactly what he accused Mike of doing just now.

"He tried to settle too, you know."

Harvey nods. "I told him to create a situation where failure is not even a possibility, win a no-win situation."

"Kobayashi Maru."

His eyes widen in surprise, a genuine laugh escaping him at her reaction. "I thought you didn't like Star Trek."

"You like it," she counters with a shrug. And I like you.

He smiles, but it doesn't fully reach his eyes, and when he looks down, she brings her hand to his chin. "Harvey, Mike is wrong about you, you know."

"Is he, though?"

She bobs her head to the side, taking him in once again. As cocky as he can be, he honestly doesn't know how magnificent of a person he is. "You think I would have stayed this long if I didn't like your kind of person."

He leans into her touch, his hand falling around her wrist as he rises from his seat. His free hand automatically lands on her waist. "Donna –"

Donna lets her thumb move over his cheek to the corner of his mouth. She brings his face closer until her lips nearly touch his. "I know we haven't talked about – "

"Nothing happened with Scottie."

"What?" she whispers, pulling back ever so slightly.

"Nothing happened – "

He doesn't get the chance to repeat his answer completely before her lips meet his, and his desire takes over before his mind can catch up to the implications of her surprised reaction. It's only when they part to catch their breath that he gets the chance to ask. "You didn't think I would do that?"

"No," she admits without any hesitation this time. "No, deep down, I knew you wouldn't, but I guess it was just easier than admitting –"

He watches the woman in his arms, her lips deliciously plump, her hair a mess and yet her cheeks seem to colour even further. He bites down on his lip to stop himself from grinning. "Admitting what?" he asks, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"That I want this with you."

Hope you enjoyed this chapter of Suits Undressed! We'd love to read your thoughts.