After unpacking her suitcase, Donna materializes from her temporary bedroom. Awkwardly she stands in Harvey's living room, the weight of recent events hanging heavily in the air between them. She has accepted Harvey's offer of refuge out of necessity, but now that she is here, the reality of their changed dynamics feels almost suffocating.
Harvey, situated at his glass desk, watches Donna closely, his usual confidence tempered by a rare vulnerability. "Can I get you anything? Water, wine?" he offers.
Donna forces a small smile. "Water would be great, thanks," she replies, grateful for the opportunity to break the tense silence.
As Harvey busies himself in the kitchen, Donna glances around the room, her eyes tracing the familiar contours of his meticulously organized space. Everything is in its place, a reflection of Harvey's controlled exterior.
When Harvey returns with a glass of water, Donna takes it gratefully, the cool liquid a welcome distraction from her racing thoughts.
"Thanks," Donna murmurs, taking a sip and setting the glass down on the coffee table.
Harvey sits down opposite her, his gaze searching hers. "Donna, I know this isn't easy for you," he begins, his voice gentle yet resolute. "But I want you to know that you're safe here. I won't let anything happen to you."
Donna bobs her head, a mixture of gratitude and apprehension swirling within her. "I appreciate that, Harvey. Truly," she replies, her voice soft.
Silence settles over them once more, punctuated only by the distant echoes of rain against the windowpane. Donna fidgets with the hem of her sleeve, struggling to find the right words.
"Harvey, I..." Donna begins, her voice wavering slightly. "I didn't expect things to turn out like this."
Harvey meets her gaze, his expression unreadable. "Neither did I," he admits quietly. He offers a faint smile, a glimmer of reassurance in his eyes. "But we'll figure this out."
Donna shifts uneasily on the couch, her gaze fixed on the rain-streaked window.
"Donna, I know this is difficult," Harvey says, his voice calm but determined. "But we need to confront this head-on. Have you thought of anyone who might be behind these messages?"
Donna sighs, her brow furrowing with frustration. "I've been racking my brain," her voice tinged with exasperation. "But nothing makes sense. It could be anyone."
Harvey stares at her thoughtfully. "We'll start by documenting everything with dates and times," he suggests, sliding the folder she brought over to her and pulling out a notepad and pen from the coffee table. "Every message, every incident. We need to build a case. We can also make a timeline and cross reference that with people that had access and a motive."
Donna watches as Harvey scribbles down notes, his focused demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos swirling within her. She knows he is trying to help, but the weight of uncertainty bears down on her with relentless force.
"Donna," Harvey speaks up after a moment, noticing she is gazing into the distance. "I promise you, we'll get to the bottom of this."
Donna gives him a lopsided smile that does not quite reach her eyes in return.
As the evening wears on, Donna is more and more quiet, her voice often barely a whisper providing the details needed.
"Donna, I know this must be hard for you," Harvey ventures. "But we need to be proactive about this. We can't afford to wait."
Donna looks up from her spot on the couch, her expression guarded. "I know, Harvey," she replies, her frustration palpable. "But what if we can't figure this out? What if I'm stuck looking over my shoulder forever?"
Harvey's jaw tightens slightly, his own frustration simmering beneath the surface. "We will figure it out, Donna," he asserts.
She rises abruptly, towering over him. "I… I need… I'm going to bed," is all she can manage to get out in the end.
Harvey watches her retreating form. Why does he feel like he did something wrong, again?
…
"Morning," Donna yawns as she emerges from the guest room in a long, pink, and floral printed silk robe, her hair on top of her head in a messy bun, face au naturel, no make-up yet.
"Morning," Harvey replies from behind the kitchen counter in a white henley and black cotton pajama pants, his hair still tousled.
They stare at each other for a moment. This is new, this is uncharted territory, and their eyes blatantly sweep over each other's bodies.
Harvey is the first to break away to busy himself with his coffee machine. "Did you sleep alright?" he asks with his back to her.
"Actually, not really." Donna sighs, leaning on the counter.
Harvey spins around with the coffee handle in his hand. "What about the bed is it? The sheets, the mattress, the duvet? I can have it replaced this afternoon."
"The bed is fine, Harvey. I just kept going round in my head about having to sleep in your guest room because someone is stalking me."
"Oh," Harvey says sheepishly. "That actually makes more sense since you made all the decisions for the bed with the designer back then."
He looks down at her. Her face clouds, probably also remembering a time they'd work seamlessly. A million light years away from their current predicament.
"We couldn't have you having to admit you were wrong. That would be like what, the third time in twelve years?" Harvey plows on in a failed attempt to lighten the mood.
Donna takes a silent step back with a pained expression, her hands falling to her sides.
Heaving a sigh, more at himself than at her, Harvey turns around to set the coffee machine in motion. He grabs two coffee cups from the overhead cupboard and lines them up on the counter.
"Do you want coffee first or shower first?" he bellows over the whirling sound of the machine. He produces a bottle of vanilla from another cupboard and places it next to the cups.
Donna sets another step back, shaking her head. "I can't do this," she mumbles and sprints to the guest room.
Having had his back to her the entire time, Harvey looks up surprised when he hears the door slammed shut.
…
"Donna."
"Harvey."
They greeted each other curtly in the partner's kitchen.
Donna tipped a croissant on a plate, Harvey got a cup of coffee all the way on the other side of the counter.
In between them, Louis was finishing up stocking a cupboard with his favorite all-bran bars.
They hadn't discussed if Louis knew about Donna's situation or Harvey offering his help but there was a silent understanding as they did the hostile dance they'd been doing for weeks.
Munching on one of the bars, Louis strolled out of the kitchen. "Don't forget to transcribe—" he called over his shoulder.
"Your dictaphone, I know," Donna finished with a sigh.
"Transcribing Louis' thoughts. Fascinating." The snubbing was palpable in Harvey's voice.
"At least he shares them," Donna bit.
Harvey pushed his coffee cup over the counter, as far as he could reach. He rounded the pantry himself as well, sitting down in front of Donna.
"As much as I do not enjoy discussing the inner workings of your new boss," Harvey frowned, sipping his coffee, "we have more pressing issues to discuss."
Donna's eyes were still narrowed, and she opened her mouth, changing her mind, closing it again. She just nodded instead.
"Actually, I'm drawing up a blank looking into this."
"What does that mean?"
"It means this is not some midlife crisis client with a crush, doing a piss poor job of wooing you."
"Eloquent" Donna brought her cup to her mouth.
"This person is up to no good."
"Do you solemnly swear that?" A hint of mockery on Donna's lip.
Normally Harvey would love the movie reference but right now the nostrils of his nose were flaring. He did not care for her laissez-faire attitude.
"This is someone who knows what he's doing and those are the most dangerous."
Harvey's fingers wrapped around his mug. His grip tightened as he uttered his concern.
"I think you should move in with me." Harvey could feel the swirl of nervous knots raging in his stomach.
Donna blinked rapidly, her eyes grew wide, her chin jutted forward. "Come again?"
Harvey cleared his throat. "Move in with me," he repeated.
"Yeah, heard ya the first time," she muttered.
"Donna, I have a bad feeling about this." He lightly shook his head as he pronounced the words.
"Moving in with my former boss, who has not forgiven me for leaving his desk and only just got over himself enough to be on decent terms with me, what could possibly go wrong? Talking about having a bad feeling about something."
Stung by her words, Harvey stood up abruptly. He drained his coffee cup, placing it in the sink.
"It was not that long ago, you accused me of not showing you I care."
"This is not what I meant." Unwillingly, Donna's voice was slightly raised.
Harvey turned around, leaning against the sink. His legs crossed, his arms folded.
"Then what do you mean? Because I can't protect you with you seated at Louis' desk and—"
"I'm not asking you to be my knight in shining armor, I'm asking you to be—"
Donna had swirled around on the breakfast bar stool but she swallowed her next words.
Harvey scrutinized her, his jaw tightened, willing her to finish that sentence. Donna stared right back at him, fidgeting with her ring, twisting it around and around.
When the door opened and Jessica's form appeared, Donna seized the opportunity to hop off the stool and make a beeline for the exit, leaving a seething Harvey behind.
…
Seated at her desk, Donna let out a yawn. She was almost done transcribing Louis' dictaphone. He had been rambling on about changes for the letterhead for ten minutes now. She was too tired for this shit.
She needed a good night's sleep but her grinding thoughts were an endless circle, all night long.
Just as she hit enter, the lights around her went out, her computer no longer shone its bright blue light and she was plunged into darkness.
"Noooo," Donna screeched. She hadn't hit save for at least ten minutes.
"Screw this," she thought and cleared her desk. Tomorrow she would try again, assuming the power would be back on by then.
It was already late and the office felt deserted but just in case there was an associate buried with some insurmountable task by Louis, afraid to go home, she circled the entire floor.
The bullpen was empty as expected and Donna was about to stir herself in the direction of her desk when she noticed a faint light glowing in the corner office.
Harvey had a laptop that didn't rely on electricity, for now. She made her way over and leaned against the doorframe.
"That power outage was a sign you know."
Harvey looked up surprised.
"To go home," Donna clarified.
Checking his watch, Harvey closed his laptop and gathered his belongings.
"You're right. I'll walk you out."
Donna tried to act nonplussed while keeping up with Harvey's long strides down the hallway.
"I just need to get my bag," Donna said as they approached the elevator bank.
Harvey nodded and kept walking.
The city lights shining inside gave off a dim glow, enough for Donna to retrieve her handbag. She reached across her desk to grab the apple she hadn't had time to eat all day when the overhead lights flickered back on. That's when she froze.
Harvey was angled with his back against her desk, scrolling through his phone. He blinked at the sudden brightness and glanced at Donna. Her panic-stricken face made him stuff away his phone. He joined her to see what she was looking at.
On her desk was a message spelled out with paper clips.
I SEE U
Harvey balled his fists and it took every ounce of self-control to just clench his jaw and not explode in rage.
"That wasn't a normal power outage," Donna whispered.
It was a statement, not a question.
Harvey just shook his head. "No, it wasn't," he said hoarsely.
He quickly took a picture with his phone before swiping the paper clips aside with one shift motion.
"You are moving in with me."
…
Donna steps into the apartment, the familiar click of the door echoing in the otherwise quiet space. She is greeted by the enticing aroma of something savory cooking, a surprising yet welcome contrast to the tension-filled day she'd endured at work.
"Harvey?" she calls out, her voice tentative as she ventures further inside.
"In the kitchen," comes Harvey's reply, his tone a mix of casual and something else—something she can't quite place.
Donna hangs her coat on the rack and makes her way to the kitchen, her steps slowing as she approaches. Harvey stands at the stove, stirring a pot with a concentration that seems almost forced. The table is set for two, complete with two handwoven linen placemats and neatly folded napkins.
"Didn't expect you to cook," Donna remarks, her voice light but guarded.
Harvey turns, offering a small smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Thought you might like a home-cooked meal. We eat too much takeout with all those long hours."
Donna's heart softens at the gesture, but her unease remains palpable. "It smells amazing. What's on the menu?" she asks.
"Pasta primavera," Harvey replies, turning back to the stove.
Donna leans against the counter, watching Harvey as he moves around the kitchen. There is something almost domestic about the scene, yet the air between them feels anything but.
"You didn't add zucchini, did you?" Donna tries her utmost to not sound ungrateful.
"No zucchini," he says softly. "I remember how much you hate them." A smile lingers on Harvey's lips. "Although, I now slightly regret it. A missed opportunity to hear you rant again how they taste like an off-brand slimy cucumber had a baby with a really sad squash."
Despite herself, Donna felt a flush of embarrassment creeping up her neck, the unexpected memory stirring a mix of emotions within her as she realizes he remembers her exact words from a long-ago conversation. "You remember that," she says quietly, her voice tinged with both surprise and fluster.
Harvey's smile widens, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, you know me. I never forget a good... zucchini," he says, raising one eyebrow suggestively.
Donna's cheeks flush even deeper at the playful words, a nervous laugh escaping her lips. She shifts uncomfortably, suddenly acutely aware of the intimate tension lingering between them.
She bites her lip. "Did you know there is no zucchini emoji on your phone?"
Harvey frowns. "I'm pretty sure there is." He walks towards his desk where his suit jacket is draped over the chair.
He walks back tapping on his phone, giving the contents of the pan on the stove a good shake with his free arm.
"Right here." Harvey holds up his screen for her to look.
"That's a cucumber."
Harvey squints his eyes at the image once more, then stuffs his phone away. "Well, that's a shame. What are we supposed to do whenever we want to express our zucchini… needs?" The words come out more husky than he intended.
Donna takes off her high heels to avoid looking at him. And maybe even a bit to make sure she doesn't run. Her heart is pounding because Harvey is still willing to make innuendos like that. But also her heart is pounding because he has been making innuendos like this for the past twelve years but stops there.
Silence settles over them, thick and heavy. Donna runs her hand through her hair, twice, mincing her next words. She opts for a safer subject. The reason she is here.
"I did not feel relaxed today. I'm constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop."
Harvey looks up, his eyes meeting hers with a seriousness that makes her breath catch. "We'll handle it, Donna. Together. I promise."
Donna nods, feeling a swell of emotion she can't quite articulate. "I know. It's just… I feel like I'm dragging you into my mess."
Harvey shakes his head, stepping closer. "You're not dragging me anywhere. I'm here because I want to be. Because I care about you."
The sincerity in his words leaves Donna momentarily speechless. She manages a small, grateful smile. Nodding as she swallows away the lump in her throat.
Harvey clears his throat, breaking the moment. "Dinner's ready. Let's eat before it gets cold."
They move to the dining table, the clinking of silverware and the soft murmur of conversation gradually filling the room. Despite the lingering awkwardness, there is a comfort in sharing a meal.
By the time they finish, the awkwardness has faded into the background. They clear the table together, the mundane task feeling almost like a balm to the unease of earlier.
"Thanks for dinner, Harvey," Donna says as they load the dishwasher.
"Anytime," Harvey replies, his smile this time reaching his eyes.
…
"What are you smiling about?" Harvey questions, flopping down at his coffee table.
Donna, situated on the couch, tucks her legs underneath her. "Just this Instagram account of a young dog. He's pulling this silly, goofy face and his owner captioned it "No thoughts, just vibes."
She leans forward and holds her phone in front of Harvey's face. She tilts her head to the side just in time to see him crack a small smile.
"So you are using Instagram to look at other people's dogs?"
"Not just dogs…" Donna pauses. "Sometimes it's cats or horses."
Harvey tips his head backward, raising both his eyebrows.
"What?" Donna remarks innocently. "It is feel-good content. God knows I need it after a day in the office."
"So when people are scrolling aimlessly every dull moment they get, they are looking at each other's pets?"
"Yes, or tumble down a rabbit hole of some other interest they have. That damn algorithm." Donna nibs at a cuticle. "I may or may not follow Hèrmes, Gucci, Roland Mouret, to not miss a new handbag or dress."
"That's my girl," Harvey mumbles.
Donna blinks, not sure if she heard correctly but before she can open her mouth, Harvey asks, "Game of Backgammon?" He gestures to the board he has been setting up during their conversation.
Donna nods and lets herself slide down the couch to join him on the floor.