A/N: I wrote this with a major sinus infection so forgive me if it doesn't make as much sense as my clouded brain thinks it does. Let me know in the reviews what you think!

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Harvey's balcony door is slightly ajar when he enters his kitchen. He just returned from the grocery store and he sets the bags down on the counter with more force than necessary.

He stopped by his therapist's office on the way home, a session he started going to in secret, not ready for anyone—especially Donna—to know. Ray drove Donna home earlier, as she finished her day before him, which made his stop easier to conceal. He thinks about everything he has discussed in therapy, about the anger and confusion surrounding Donna and their complicated history, but now that he is home, it feels like none of it is resolved.

As he unpacks the groceries, the balcony clicks shut and Donna steps into the kitchen, stopping when she sees Harvey unloading the groceries. Her eyes narrow slightly, noticing the tension in his shoulders. "I thought Ray dropped me off because you were working late. Where were you?" she asks.

Harvey doesn't turn around, continuing to put things away. "I had some things to take care of," he says, his tone clipped, hoping she won't push further.

Donna raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms as she leans against the counter. "Things to take care of?"

Harvey's jaw clenches. "Yeah, things. It's nothing."

"You're not a 'nothing' kind of guy, Harvey. So what's going on?"

Harvey finally turns around, locking eyes with her. "I told you, it's not a big deal."

"If it wasn't a big deal, you wouldn't be acting like this."

Harvey slams the fridge door shut, the sound echoing through the kitchen. "Can we not do this right now, Donna?"

"Do what? Have a conversation?" Donna's voice remains calm. "You've been shutting me out for weeks now."

"I have a lot on my plate."

"And you think I don't," Donna shoots back.

She stares at him, her brow furrowing. "This isn't just about the stalker, is it?"

Harvey shakes his head, his hands resting on the counter as he leans into it, his body tense.

For a moment there is just silence between them.

"So what is it then? Because I don't think it's just about me working for Louis either."

Harvey doesn't answer right away, as he searches for the right words. He thinks about what his therapist has said earlier, about being honest with himself—and with Donna.

"It's everything," he finally admits. "It's the fact that you left, the fact that I'm still cleaning up Louis's mess, this goddamn stalker, and the fact that we can't seem to get back to where we were."

Donna's eyes soften. "We can't get back to where we were, Harvey, because things have changed. I've changed. You've changed."

Harvey looks at her, the weight of her words sinking in. "Maybe that's the problem," he murmurs. "Maybe I wasn't ready for things to change."

Donna is silent for a moment, but then she steps closer, her voice gentle. "Change doesn't have to mean things are worse. It just means we have to figure out what's next."

Before Harvey can respond, Donna's phone buzzes. She glances down at the screen, her brow furrowing. "It's Louis. I have to take this."

Harvey nods, watching as Donna steps out of the kitchen to answer the call. He exhales heavily, feeling the tension in his chest tighten once more. Even now, Louis is still in the middle of it all, a constant reminder of how everything has shifted.

As Donna's voice echoes faintly from the other room, Harvey stands alone in the kitchen, silently counting to ten, fumbling for the pills inside the pocket of his suit jacket.

The atmosphere at Pearson Specter Litt hasn't been the same since Donna left his desk. Harvey has been throwing himself into work more than ever, using it as a distraction. They still work in the same building, the same floor even but there is a gap as wide as the Grand Canyon between them. The tension with Donna is eating away at him, but he keeps pushing it down, burying it under layers of denial and frustration.

He has noticed how easily she seems to be fitting in with Louis, and how effortlessly they work together. It is almost as if she has never been his secretary like she has moved on without a second thought. And every time he sees her laughing with Louis or catching a glimpse of their easy camaraderie, it feels like a punch to the gut.

As the afternoon drags on, Harvey finds himself staring at the glass door of his office, watching as Donna passes by with a file in hand. She doesn't glance in his direction, doesn't acknowledge his presence, and that stings more than he cares to admit.

"Harvey?" Mike's voice cuts through his thoughts as he steps into the office, noticing the distracted look on his mentor's face. "You okay? You seem...off."

Harvey shakes his head, trying to shake off the lingering thoughts. "I'm fine, Mike. What do you need?"

Mike hesitates, sensing that something is wrong but knowing better than to push. "I just need your sign-off on this motion. But seriously, man, are you sure everything's good?"

Harvey takes the document from Mike, barely glancing at it before signing. "Everything's fine. Just a lot on my plate."

Mike nods slowly, still unconvinced. "If you say so. But, you know, you can talk to me if something's up."

Harvey forces a tight smile. "I appreciate that, Mike. But like I said, I'm good."

As Mike leaves the office, Harvey's gaze drifts back to the corridor, just in time to see Donna returning from Louis's office. This time, she does glance his way, and for a brief moment, their eyes meet. It is only a split second, but it is enough to remind him of everything that has changed between them.

Harvey watches her sitting down at her desk outside Louis's office, feeling the knot in his chest tighten. He knows he can't keep going like this, pretending that everything is okay when it is far from it.

After a few more minutes of stewing in his own thoughts, he can't take it anymore. He pushes back from his desk, determination hardening his features. This needed to be addressed—now.

Harvey marches out of his office, his footsteps firm and purposeful as he makes his way toward Louis's office. He barely registers the looks of the associates and partners as he passes by, just focused on the conversation he is about to have.

When he reaches Louis's office, he doesn't bother knocking. He just pushes the door open, startling both Louis and Donna, who are deep in conversation.

"Harvey, what—" Louis starts, but Harvey cuts him off with a look.

"Donna, we need to talk. Now."

Donna's eyes widen slightly, but she quickly masks her surprise with a calm nod. She hands the file she is holding to Louis. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Louis looks between them, sensing the tension but not daring to intervene. "Sure, Donna. Take your time."

As Donna steps out into the hallway, Harvey doesn't wait for her to say anything. He turns and walks back toward his office, knowing she will follow. His heart is pounding, his mind racing with everything he wants to say but has been holding back for too long.

Donna trails behind him, her own thoughts swirling as she prepares herself for whatever is coming. She had known this conversation was inevitable, but that doesn't make it any easier.

When they reach Harvey's office, he steps inside and waits for her to close the door behind her. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the words come out sharper than he intends. "We need to talk about this. About you working for Louis."

And that is the spark that lights the fuse.

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Donna's posture stiffens, her own frustration bubbling to the surface.

"Lets." Her tone is just as hard as Harvey's. "Because something you said last night got me thinking. Who's paying my salary?"

Harvey, ready to launch into his rant, is caught off guard by her sudden shift in the dynamics. He sighs, "You should really ask Louis."

"I'm asking you," Donna says.

"Donna…" Harvey starts, his voice laced with reluctance.

"Just tell me the truth, Harvey."

Harvey rubs the back of his neck, clearly frustrated, before finally meeting her eyes. "Louis tried to restructure the compensation plan after you started working for him, but… it didn't go the way he planned."

"I know he suggested a change in the contingency fees but I don't see what that has to do with my salary."

"He wanted me to take a cut so he could afford your salary. But when that didn't work out…" Harvey's voice trails off as he tries to find the right words, his eyes avoiding hers.

Realization slowly dawns on Donna, and her heart sinks. "So… you're still paying me?"

Harvey nods reluctantly, his eyes hard. "Yeah, Donna. I'm still covering your salary because Louis is too cheap to pony up for it himself."

Donna blinks, taken aback. She knew about the restructuring, but she had no idea Harvey is still footing the bill. She opens her mouth to respond but closes it again, trying to process what he has just told her. She thought she'd moved on, thought she'd made a clean break by going to work for Louis. But now it feels like she is still tethered to Harvey in ways she hadn't realized.

"How could you not tell me that? You don't get to make that decision for me."

"I am protecting you," Harvey shoots back, his voice rising, his frustration evident. "Like I always do. You want to work for Louis? Fine. But at least know who you're working for—a guy who is too cheap to pay you, and too gutless to tell you."

"And now you're throwing it in my face?"

"You just pushed me for the truth!" Harvey spits, his anger boiling over. "I wouldn't have to if you weren't working for a guy who tried to screw me over. You think moving to Louis was a clean break? It wasn't. He tried to manipulate the system, and now I'm the one literally paying the price."

"I left to put myself first for once. And now you're using this against me like I betrayed you." Donna takes a step closer, her eyes flashing with anger. "You don't just pay people to be loyal, Harvey. That's not how this works."

"How dare you? I don't give a shit about the money, and I never did."

"No, you didn't. It was just a way to get me to do what you wanted, to keep me tied to you."

"So when your life was on the line, and I was there for you every step of the way, that meant nothing to you?"

Donna's eyes flash with hurt as she shakes her head. "It wasn't every step of the way, Harvey. You bailed out the second I wanted more."

He stares at her, unable to hide the pain in his eyes. "That's when you decided to betray me."

"How the hell is moving on and putting myself first betraying you?" Donna fires back, her voice rising with emotion.

"Because you went to Louis to do it," Harvey's voice is laced with bitterness. "And that's not moving on. That's sticking a knife in my gut and twisting it."

Donna doesn't flinch, her eyes hardening as she delivers the final blow. "Yeah, Harvey, it is. How does it feel to be on the receiving end for once?"

Harvey stares at her. The hurt in Donna's eyes is mirrored in his own, but neither of them is able to find a way to bridge the chasm that has suddenly opened between them.

After what feels like an eternity, Donna's raspy voice breaks the silence. "I had to do what was right for me, Harvey. You made your choices, and I made mine. And I'm not going to apologize for that."

Harvey's chest tightens as he struggles with the realization that Donna doesn't seem to feel the same pangs of regret or remorse. He swallows hard, his voice barely a whisper. "I don't know where we go from here. But if you're going to keep living with me, we need to find a way to deal with all this anger and resentment."

"Agreed." Donna is emotionally drained, eager to avoid further engagement in a conversation that is too painful to dive deeper into at that moment.

As she turns to leave, Harvey's gaze follows her, a mixture of longing and frustration in his eyes. He wants her to come back to him, to find a way to mend what has been broken, but he can't bring himself to say it. The words are lodged in his throat as he watches her leave, his hands curling into fists at his sides. The door clicks softly behind her, the silence in his office louder than ever.

Harvey stands by his office window, staring out at the night, his posture tense.

Jessica enters quietly, her steps barely audible. She stands behind him for a moment, letting the silence stretch.

Harvey remains facing the window, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Jessica approaches, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. He flinches slightly but doesn't turn.

Without a word, Jessica moves to the windowsill on the other side, picking up a framed photo of Harvey and Donna at the DA office. She studies it briefly before setting it back down.

Harvey's shoulders slump further as he continues to stare out. Jessica walks over to a small table with a bottle of scotch and two glasses. She pours a measure of the drink into each glass and silently hands one to Harvey.

He takes the glass, still, neither of them speaks. They sit down at the desk, the room filled only with the soft clink of ice in the glasses.

Jessica watches Harvey as he takes a sip. She sips her own drink slowly, her eyes never leaving him. She leans back in her chair. "I came to talk about Donna."

Harvey's expression tightens. "What about her?"

Jessica's tone is calm. "Have you considered stopping the payments for her salary?"

Harvey looks up, surprised. "You want me to cut her off?"

"Not to punish her," Jessica clarifies. "But by continuing to pay her, you're treating her like an object you can control rather than acknowledging her as an individual with her own choices and needs."

Harvey frowns, considering her words. "So, what do you suggest I do?"

"Stop letting her working for Louis ruin twelve years of what you've built together. Focus on your relationship beyond the office. If you want things to change, you need to reconnect with her on a personal level, not just as a boss or a financial supporter."

Jessica offers a small smile. "Sometimes, it's about letting go to see what's truly there."

She stands and with one last squeeze of his shoulder, she heads toward the door, leaving Harvey alone with his thoughts and the half-empty glass of whiskey.

At almost midnight, the apartment is quieter than usual. They both stayed late at work, eating something at their desks. As soon as they arrive home, after a silent car ride, Donna retreats to her room, but she is unable to sleep, tossing and turning in her bed. Harvey, still in the living room, sits in the darkness, staring blankly at the TV, which is turned off, lost in thought.

Donna emerges from her room later, her eyes red from a mix of frustration and fatigue. She wanders into the kitchen, Harvey is now sitting in the leather cocoon chair near the window, nursing a glass of whiskey.

Their eyes meet briefly, but no words are spoken. Donna walks to the fridge, grabs a bottle of water, and retreats back to her room. Harvey watches her go, the silence between them is deafening.

A few nights later, Donna sits curled up on the couch, a book open in her lap, but her eyes aren't really on the pages. She's been living here for two weeks now, and the initial strangeness has settled into something else—something more complex and tense.

Harvey enters from the kitchen, a glass of scotch in his hand. He pauses at the sight of Donna before he walks over and drops into the armchair across from her.

"You're still okay with being here?" he asks.

Donna looks up from her book, trying to gauge his mood. "It's not like I have much of a choice, Harvey."

His jaw tightens slightly, and he takes a slow sip of his drink. "You always have a choice, Donna."

"Not when there's a stalker involved, I don't."

"You know I'd do anything to keep you safe."

"I know," she says softly, her eyes meeting his. "But that doesn't make this any less… weird."

Donna closes her book, resting it on her lap. "I'm living in your apartment, working for Louis instead of you, and we're pretending like everything is normal when it's anything but."

Harvey leans back. "You're safe here. That's all that matters."

She sighs, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's not just about being safe, Harvey. It's about this… situation. The tension. The fact that we're constantly tiptoeing around each other."

Harvey is silent for a moment, then he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "We've been through worse."

"Have we?" Donna replies, her voice tinged with frustration. "It's just… hard to be here, in your space, knowing that things aren't the same as they used to be. We're not used to this kind of proximity. Not like this."

"It's temporary, Donna. As soon as this is over, you'll be back in your own place, and things will go back to normal."

"Will they?" she asks quietly.

He looks at her, really looks at her, and for a moment, something softens in his expression. "I don't know," he admits.

There's a long pause before Donna breaks the silence, her voice almost a whisper. "I miss working with you, Harvey."

He looks down at his glass, swirling the amber liquid inside. "I miss it too." His voice is hoarse.

He does his best to maintain his composure, but the brief admission that she misses him too is a mere band-aid on a gaping wound.

She watches him, waiting for him to say more, but he doesn't. The silence stretches out again.

"I'm going to bed," she says finally, standing up and gathering her book.

Harvey's eyes follow her as she moves towards the hallway. "Goodnight, Donna."

She pauses at the doorway, turning back to him. "Goodnight, Harvey."

Their eyes lock for a moment longer. Then she turns and walks to the guest room, closing the door softly behind her.

Donna arrives home after a long day. Louis has a trial tomorrow and wouldn't let her go until all t's and i's were crossed and dotted twice. Harvey had instructed Louis to not let her travel home alone and her boss had complied willingly.

She shrugs out of her coat, steps out of her high heels on her way to the kitchen, and heads straight for the freezer. Looking for ice cubes to make herself a much-needed cocktail, she finds a container of her favorite ice cream nestled among the frozen goods.

Surprised, she pulls it out and examines it, a faint smile forming at her lips. She grabs a spoon from the drawer and moves towards the couch, where Harvey is seated, case files sprawled out around him.

Without a word, she moves the folders, and takes a seat beside him, setting the ice cream container between them.

Harvey looks up from his document, raising an eyebrow at the unexpected treat.

Donna offers him a spoon, and he accepts it with a nod.

They eat in silence, the quiet of the apartment punctuated only by the occasional clink of spoons against the container.

As they finish, Donna stands up to put the empty container in the trash. Harvey watches her.

"Thanks for sharing," he says quietly.

Donna gives a slight nod, her expression softening for just a moment. "Anytime." Without lingering, she turns and heads to her room.

"Shit," Donna mutters as she tips the bottle upside down one more time. A single drop of vanilla drips into the black coffee when she shakes the bottle furiously.

Harvey appears in the doorway, barefoot, his hair still wet but his dress pants and monogrammed shirt immaculate as always.

"Sooo," Donna starts, her voice laced with guilt.

Harvey raises an eyebrow waiting for what's coming. Normally she retreats to the bathroom as soon as he emerges from the bedroom.

"I always drink the coffee you start while showering. Usually, I make you a new one so you won't notice, but we're out of vanilla," Donna rattles off quickly. "I'm sorry."

"What did you say?"

Donna takes a deep breath. "Idrinkyourcoffee—" she rambles again.

Harvey interrupts her. "Not that part, the second part."

Donna frowns. "I'm sorry?"

"There we go."

Understanding dawns on Donna's face and she throws the empty bottle at him.

Harvey smirks as he skillfully catches the vanilla.

"Jerk," Donna mutters.

"Breath," he orders, looking her in the eye. "I know you steal my coffee. You use a different setting when making the next cup."

"Ugh," Donna groans, twisting the ends of her robe belt. "Good or bad setting?"

"It uses fewer beans."

Donna looks horrified. "So you've been drinking watered-down coffee?"

Harvey shrugs. "I've been meaning to cut back on caffeine anyway."

She shoots him a look, her head tilted forward just slightly.

He mirrors her, tilting his chin ever so slightly higher.

Donna cracks first, stomping off toward the bathroom. Harvey takes a sip from his vanilla-free coffee, smacking his lips with exaggerated satisfaction.

It's Saturday afternoon and Harvey is sitting at the dining table, laptop open, dressed in a white shirt with rolled up sleeves and a tan colored chino shirt—Donna did a double take when he emerged this morning, preparing for a case. Donna is in the kitchen, flipping through a magazine, while waiting for her tea water to boil. Her flowy summer dress reason for more than one glance from Harvey as well.

The intercom buzzes, interrupting the quiet.

Harvey's eyes flick toward the door.

"Expecting anyone?" he asks, his voice low.

Donna shakes her head.

Harvey presses the intercom button.

"Delivery for Mr. Specter," comes a muffled voice through the speaker.

Harvey's brow furrows. "Leave it with security."

"It's marked urgent."

Harvey hesitates, exchanging a brief glance with Donna. "I'll be right there."

A few moments later, Harvey returns with a large, nondescript envelope.

"Who's it from?" Donna asks, coming closer, her tea forgotten on the counter.

"There's no name," Harvey mutters, tearing open the envelope. The first thing he pulls out is a thick stack of photographs that make his blood run cold.

A picture of Donna, taken from street level as she walks out of the office. The timestamp and date are neatly written on the back— two weeks ago.

Donna's breath catches as she leans over his shoulder to see. "Oh my God…"

"What the hell…" Harvey growls, flipping through more photos, each more invasive than the last. Donna on the sidewalk, at her apartment, waiting for a cab. Some include Harvey, like one where they're stepping out of his town car, another showing them leaving the office late at night. All dated. All timed.

"They've been watching you," Harvey says grimly, his eyes darkening with fury.

Donna's hand trembles slightly as she picks up one of the photos. "They've been following me for weeks," she whispers.

The final photo reveals Harvey and Donna through the window of his car, taken from the street outside. Donna's leaning toward Harvey, mid-conversation, oblivious to the camera.

On the back of the photo, there's a message scrawled in messy red ink: "Always watching."

Harvey's grip tightens on the edge of the countertop, his knuckles white. "This ends now," he says, his voice simmering with rage. "We're going to the police."

Donna nods, her face pale. She doesn't argue.

Without another word, Harvey grabs his phone and calls Detective Hayes, a contact he's used in the past. His voice is clipped and businesslike as he explains the situation. Meanwhile, Donna steps away from the counter, her eyes darting nervously toward the windows. Still clutching the final photo, she feels exposed, even within the safety of Harvey's apartment.

Harvey's voice softens as he continues speaking to the police, but wraps Donna in a comforting hug, murmuring, "We'll sort this out. You're safe here with me."