The police arrive, they bag the photos as evidence, ask Donna and Harvey some questions, and promise to increase patrols around the building.
After they leave, the apartment feels heavier than before. Harvey and Donna sit in silence for a moment, both processing the gravity of the situation.
"You should stay in my room tonight." Harvey's voice sounds gruff.
Donna hesitates but eventually nods. "Okay."
Neither of them moves. Harvey watches her for a long moment, wanting to say more, wanting to promise her everything will be okay, but he knows better than to make promises he can't control.
"I won't let anything happen to you," he finally says huskily.
"I know."
…
A few hours later, Harvey sits down on his couch. He pushes aside a few magazines with bold headlines screaming at him. Have Sexier Sex, he reads. 7 Signs He is Good in Bed. Harvey's left eyebrow shoots up. I Sexted my Boss. His other eyebrow shoots up.
He folds a throw blanket that is taking up half the sofa and he pushes aside the vase of flowers on his coffee table so he'll be able to put his feet up.
Just as he's finally able to sit properly, he hears a few large sighs coming from the guest room.
Donna is putting away the clean laundry that was just brought back from the in-house laundry service.
Harvey leans casually against the doorframe. "You know in some countries you need to make a wish after three sighs or you'll have bad luck in love forever." He smirks playfully.
Donna huffs. "Well, if that's true, then I'm probably cursed by now. But, hey—what's one more missed opportunity when some people have been ignoring what's right in front of them for years?"
Harvey pauses, the smirk slipping just slightly as her words land harder than he expected. He leans a little more into the doorframe, crossing his arms, but there's something different in his posture, a crack in the usual confident facade.
His response carries a hint of defensiveness.
"Well, sometimes to break a rule is to realize it was meant to be bent in the first place."
He meets Donna's gaze, a challenge in his eyes as if to say that the boundaries were a mutual choice, not just his alone.
Donna narrows her eyes at Harvey. "Alright, Mr. Rules. Since we're not solving the world's problems tonight, how about we address the real crisis at hand? Unless you've started stocking women's clothing, I'm running out of ways to rotate the few clothes I have. I only have one nightwear option so I'm not even able to wash it currently."
Harvey's eyes flicker to the skimpy pajama Donna's holding. A delicate tank top and matching shorts made of high-quality fabric. His gaze lingers on the outfit, appreciation and bemusement in his eyes.
"You saying you need to do some shopping?"
"No, I'm saying I need my clothes from my place."
Harvey nods understandably. "I can send Ray."
"I don't want Ray rifling through my underwear drawer." Donna's voice raises an octave, clearly expressing her unease. "I'll figure something out. Maybe I'll swing by with someone…"
Before she can finish, Harvey cuts her off. "You're not going back there alone."
"Fine," Donna grumbles. "But Ray is not going through my drawers."
"You'd rather I do it?"
Donna shoots him a look. "Oh yeah, That's exactly what I want; you rifling through my underwear drawer."
Harvey grins. "Wouldn't be the worst thing. I have a knack for finding things that are... well, hidden."
Donna raises an eyebrow. "If you're as good at finding clothes as you are at avoiding feelings, I might just let you help."
Harvey cocks his head sideways. Donna bites her lip.
After a long pause, Harvey speaks up. "I'll take you tomorrow. Tonight you can borrow one of my shirts."
"Okay."
As he turns around to leave, a mischievous smile is back on Harvey's lips. "But just so we're clear, which one of us is going through your lingerie drawer?"
He ducks just in time to avoid the pillow Donna hurls at him.
…
With a big yawn, Donna gets up from her horizontal position on the couch. "I'm going to bed," she announces.
Harvey, seated at his desk, closes his laptop immediately. He sat there all night examining all the evidence of the stalker again, to see if somehow there was a detail he missed until now. Anything to give him a lead.
"So…." Donna hesitates which way to go. Left to the guest room or straight ahead for Harvey's room.
"My room," Harvey states unequivocally. He is not offering, there is no other option than making sure she stays close.
The thought of her alone in the guest room, even with the security of the building, isn't something he can stomach tonight.
Harvey pushes the door open, flicking on the lights.
He gallantly steps aside, allowing Donna to enter before he closes the door again.
The room suddenly feels different with both of them standing in it. He moves to his dresser, pulling out a t-shirt, handing it to her without a word. Donna takes it, her fingers brushing his for just a second before she disappears into the bathroom to change.
He stands there for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to clear his mind. This is different, and it isn't just because of the threat. This is about them, about how they have always been able to push the boundaries but never cross them. And now, the lines feel blurred.
Harvey changes quickly, pulling off his dress shirt and tossing it onto the chair, sliding into bed as Donna reappears, his t-shirt hanging loosely on her frame. The sight of her like that, in his space, in his clothes, it catches him off guard.
She hesitates for a second before slipping under the covers beside him, her presence both familiar and suddenly foreign.
They lie there in silence, side by side, both staring at the ceiling. Neither of them seem ready to sleep, their minds too busy processing the day, the pictures, the threat that hangs over them like a cloud.
After a few moments, Donna turns her head slightly, her voice playful, but with a touch of vulnerability.
"I always thought if we'd share a bed again it would be under slightly less… weird circumstances."
Harvey gives her a sideways glance, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"I was hoping for less clothing, too."
Donna laughs under her breath, then turns her eyes back to the ceiling.
"Guess this is what we get, huh? A messed-up day, a stalker, and me raiding your wardrobe."
Harvey shifts slightly, his hand brushing hers under the sheets.
"Better than going through it alone."
The humor suddenly fades. Donna's hand stays where it is, resting close to his, their fingers barely touching.
"Yeah… I guess you're right."
Neither of them says anything any more and after a while, Donna's breathing begins to even out, the warmth of her presence allowing Harvey to relax, finally letting go of the day.
…
The next morning, Donna sits at the kitchen island, a cup of coffee untouched in front of her. Harvey moves about the apartment. His phone buzzes constantly with messages from the security company he's hired, confirming the details of the camera installation.
She doesn't even know how he pulled it off to have someone come in at such short notice and on a Sunday no less but she knows better than to ask.
There's a knock on the door, and Harvey crosses the room to open it, revealing two security technicians dressed in black polos emblazoned with the logo of the high-end security firm he had contacted.
"Mr. Specter?" the lead technician asks.
"That's right," Harvey says, stepping aside. "Come in."
The technicians waste no time, setting down their cases and going to work. One of them opens a tablet, tapping through blueprints of Harvey's condo that had been sent to them earlier.
"We'll install cameras in the main living area, entrance points, and the outside area," the technician says, glancing up at Harvey. "That should cover the key areas and any blind spots. Everything will be fed into a secure server that only you and our team will have access to. You'll also have a real-time feed on your phone."
Harvey nods, listening intently. He glances at Donna, who is sitting quietly, her arms crossed protectively around herself. She gives him a small, uncertain smile, this whole process is unnerving her.
"How long will it take?" Harvey asks.
"Just a few hours, Sir," the technician replies, already unpacking a set of small, discreet cameras. "We'll make sure it's seamless. You won't even notice the cameras are there."
"Good," Harvey says, his eyes flicking over to Donna again. "Just make sure everything is covered."
The technicians get to work immediately, drilling small, nearly invisible holes into the walls and ceilings to install the cameras. Harvey moves around with them, overseeing every placement with precision. He's meticulous, ensuring every angle is covered. From the entryway to the living room, the balcony, and near the windows. His jaw tightens every time the drill rumbles, the reality of what's happening sinking in deeper with each camera that goes up.
Donna, still at the kitchen island, watches in silence. It's strange seeing Harvey's home transformed into something so… clinical. Like a fortress. She understands the necessity, but it's hard to shake the feeling that her life is becoming less and less her own.
As one of the technicians finishes positioning a camera near the front door, Harvey checks his phone, refreshing the security app. A real-time feed of the camera angles appears, showing the condo from various vantage points.
"Check the view from the entrance," Harvey instructs, watching the technician adjust the angle remotely until it captures the entrance perfectly.
Satisfied, Harvey walks back over to the kitchen, standing close to Donna. He looks down at her, his expression softening slightly.
"This is for your protection," he says in a low voice. "I know it feels... invasive, but it's the best way to make sure you're safe."
Donna's eyes are full of worry. "It just feels so... strange. I never thought we'd need this."
"I didn't either," Harvey admits, his hand brushing lightly against hers on the counter. "But it's only temporary. Until we catch this person."
Donna meets his eyes. She knows Harvey is trying to reassure her, but the look in his eyes says he's worried too. He's trying not to show it, but Donna can see right through him. He's blaming himself for this. For not being able to stop the stalker sooner.
She watches the technician drill into the wall, the hum of the drill sending a shiver down her spine.
"I hate this," she says softly, just loud enough for Harvey to hear.
"Me too," he replies, his voice rough. "But I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, Donna."
Donna looks up at him. She knows he means every word, but the reality of their situation is still heavy. She takes a deep breath and rests her hand on his arm, giving him a reassuring squeeze. Harvey glances down at her hand before meeting her eyes.
By the time the cameras are all in place, and the technicians are packing up their gear, Harvey reviews the setup one more time with the lead technician. Everything is secure, every camera is operational.
Once the door closes behind them, the apartment feels quieter but not necessarily safer. Donna and Harvey stand in the middle of the room, the soft glow of the camera's tiny indicator lights barely visible, but their presence is felt everywhere.
"Well," Donna says with a wry smile, "guess we've got an audience now."
…
Harvey parks the car across the street from Donna's building. There's a strange quiet between the two of them as they sit in the car, neither making the first move to get out.
Harvey watches the entrance to her building for a moment, his jaw tightening. "You sure you want to do this?" he asks. "We could have someone else handle it."
Donna looks over at him. "I'm sure. It's just clothes, Harvey. And I'll be in and out before you know it."
"Alright. Let's make it quick."
They exit the car and head toward the building, Harvey walking just a step closer to her than usual. Donna leads the way, her confidence outwardly unshaken, but she glances at the familiar surroundings with a new awareness, as if seeing her apartment building through a different lens.
A person is checking his mailbox in the foyer and Harvey subtly places a hand on the small of Donna's back as they enter the elevator. The ride up is quiet, the hum of the elevator the only sound between them. Harvey's eyes scan the floors as they pass, his mind still racing with potential risks, even though the situation seems harmless.
When the elevator doors open onto Donna's floor, she steps out, Harvey following closely. They reach her apartment, and Donna unlocks the door, stepping inside. Harvey lingers near the threshold, his eyes sweeping the room as if expecting someone to pop out any second.
Donna crosses the room, opening her bedroom door to start gathering her things. She moves around her room with purpose, collecting clothes and other essentials, while Harvey remains in the doorway.
"Everything looks normal," Donna says after a few moments, folding a cardigan into her bag. "I half-expected to find something weird after all that's been happening."
"Doesn't mean there's nothing to worry about."
Donna glances at him, noticing the tension in his jaw. She walks over, placing a hand on his arm. "Hey," she says softly, "I'll be out of here in no time. Just a few more things."
Harvey bobs his head and Donna turns back to her task, grabbing a few more items from her dresser. She zips up her suitcase and straightens up, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "That's everything."
Harvey steps forward, reaching for the bag. "Let me carry that."
Donna opens her mouth to protest but stops herself, handing the suitcase over with an appreciative smile. "Thanks."
They make their way back to the door, but before leaving, Donna glances around her apartment one last time, her eyes lingering on the familiar space. It's strange, this place, once a sanctuary, now feels foreign, tainted by the unease that's been following her for weeks.
Harvey watches her for a moment, sensing the shift in her mood. "You okay?"
Donna takes a deep breath. "Yeah. Let's go."
Without another word, they leave the apartment, Harvey closing the door behind them. As they step back into the elevator, there's a sense of finality in the air. As if they've left more than just Donna's clothes behind.
As the elevator doors slide shut, Harvey glances over at Donna. He knows this is hard for her, even if she won't admit it. He's glad he's there, even for something as mundane as packing a suitcase.
"Next time," Donna says, breaking the silence, "I'm definitely sending Ray."
Harvey smirks, shaking his head. "You say that now."
They step out of the building together, the sun hitting their faces as they return to the car. Harvey stows her suitcase in the trunk before sliding into the driver's seat.
As they pull away from the curb, Donna glances out the window, her eyes tracing the familiar street. But for the first time in a long while, it doesn't feel like home anymore.
…
Donna stands by the couch, stretching her arms above her head with a soft yawn. "I think it's time to turn in," she says.
Harvey, seated in the armchair, nods. He had been absentmindedly flipping through some files, but none of the words had registered. "Yeah, me too," he replies, chucking the papers aside.
Donna hesitates for a moment, glancing to the sliding doors behind her.
Without a word, Harvey rises from his chair and walks toward the bedroom. He doesn't need to ask if Donna's coming; there's no question this time. He flicks on the light, stepping aside to let her pass, just as he did the night before.
She heads into the bathroom, and he hears the soft click of the door. Harvey pulls off his shirt and changes into a t-shirt.
Donna reappears a few minutes later, wearing the same t-shirt he gave her last night, her hair slightly tousled. She climbs into bed without a word, slipping under the covers and shifting onto her side. Harvey watches her for a moment before getting in beside her, keeping a respectful distance but still close enough that he can feel her warmth.
They lie there in the dark, the bed feeling like a barrier and a bridge all at once.
After a long silence, Donna's voice cuts through the dark. "Feels less weird than last night."
Harvey shrugs, staring at the ceiling. "Maybe because we're getting used to it."
"Or maybe because we're too tired to care." Donna chuckles lightly.
He smiles at that. "Could be that too."
Donna shifts, rolling onto her side. In the process, her arm unintentionally swings across and lightly grazes Harvey's face, catching his nose.
"Oof," Harvey grunts, his hand instinctively coming up to shield his face.
Donna immediately stifles a laugh.. "Sorry! Didn't mean to hit you."
Harvey shakes his head, rubbing his nose. "Yeah, sure. Just taking cheap shots now."
Donna chuckles, rolling her eyes, but before she can turn away again, Harvey reaches out and grabs her hand, his fingers curling around hers. The teasing fades as Harvey's grip tightens just a little, his thumb brushing lightly against her knuckles.
Donna doesn't pull away. She lets her fingers relax in his grasp.
"Goodnight, Harvey," she murmurs softly.
Harvey leans back into the pillow, his voice gentle. "Goodnight, Donna."
…
The lowered blinds don't prevent a small ray of sun from hitting Harvey's office desk exactly where his laptop is situated but he isn't paying attention to it. He is sitting back in his chair, one hand gripping his phone, his thumb hovering over the screen. The article in question is open, and its headline might as well be a neon sign flashing directly at him:
Power Couple or Secret Lovers? Donna Paulsen Spotted Leaving Harvey Specter's Condo… Again."
His jaw clenches as he skims the lines of speculation and innuendo. There's a photo of them, taken from across the street, Donna stepping into Harvey's car. It's grainy but unmistakable. The timing twisted to suggest things that aren't there; or things Harvey isn't ready to face.
He can feel the anger simmering beneath the surface. He knew this was going to happen eventually. Being Harvey Specter means the world is always watching, always waiting for a story to break. But this… this feels different. This isn't just about him; Donna is in the crossfire, too.
The door swings open without a knock. Donna steps in, holding a newspaper. Harvey barely glances up, but his entire body tenses at her presence.
"Guess what's front-page news today?" Donna waves the newspaper.
"I saw it."
She walks toward his desk, tossing the paper onto it. It lands with a thud, right over the laptop he wasn't really working on anyway.
"I thought you'd find it more entertaining. Seems like they've got all the details wrong. Or worse, half right."
Harvey's fingers tap against the armrest of his chair, his gaze moving from the newspaper to her. The way she says "half right" grates against him more than he expected.
"I'll handle it." Harvey grits his teeth.
"Harvey, it's not just about handling it. You know that, right? This isn't some lawsuit you can make go away with a few phone calls. People are going to talk."
He stands abruptly, pushing his chair back with more force than necessary, pacing toward the window.
"So what? Let them say whatever they want. It's trash. It's not their business. It's not anyone's business," he snaps.
Donna raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms.
"It's trash that's being read by half the city. You think this doesn't affect me? That I don't care? This isn't just about some stupid gossip site, Harvey. This is about us, about what people see."
The word "us" lands heavily between them, a subject they've danced around for years. Harvey's whole body tenses, caught off guard by the implication.
"There is no 'us,' Donna. Not like they're saying."
The second the words leave his mouth, he regrets them. Donna's face falls, just for a second, a flicker of hurt flashing across her face.
"Right. Of course. There's no us." she says quietly.
Harvey rubs the side of his face, exhaling sharply.
He didn't mean it like that, but the damage is done.
Donna turns away, walking toward the other window in the room, her back to him.
"You know, it's not just about what's in the article. It's about how you handle things. You push everything away, act like nothing touches you. But this… this touches me, Harvey." Donna gestures at her chest. "And you don't get to decide how I feel about it."
He's silent. She's not wrong, but admitting it—admitting any of it—is terrifying. His instinct is to protect, to lock it all away and keep moving. That's how he's always survived.
He stares out at the city, his hands shoved into his pockets.
"Like I said, I'm handling it."
"Really? Because all I see is you avoiding it."
He spins to face her, his defenses flaring.
"Avoiding it? You think I don't see what's going on here? I've spent years making sure no one can use this… whatever this is… against us. I've kept my distance for a reason."
Donna's eyes narrow slightly. There it is. The truth neither of them has wanted to talk about for so long. She steps forward, her voice sharp.
"Kept your distance? Harvey, the only person you're fooling with that is yourself."
Her words hit harder than any tabloid headline. He looks away, swallowing the retort that's on the tip of his tongue.
Donna takes a breath, softening just a fraction.
"You think you can control this—control us —but you can't. Not anymore. And the longer you try, the more we're just going to keep hurting ourselves."
Years of tension, unspoken feelings, and unbreakable rules hang in the air between them.
Harvey finally meets her gaze, his eyes hard but something fragile shines through.
"You think I like this? You think I want every part of our lives up for public consumption?"
"It's not about what you want, Harvey. It's about what's happening. Whether you admit it or not, we're in this—whatever this is."
For a moment, they just stand there, neither willing to make the next move. Harvey's chest tightens as the silence stretches on. She's right, and he knows it. He's been avoiding this for years, keeping her at arm's length, hiding behind rules and boundaries.
"I'm trying to protect you," Harvey's voice comes out soft and raw.
Donna turns around, her eyes locking onto his, a flash of frustration crossing her face.
"Maybe I don't need protecting. Maybe what I need is for you to stop shutting down every time things get hard."
She steps closer, her voice lowering. "You can't just fight your way through this, Harvey. Not everything is a battle you can win by staying in control."
Harvey's throat contracts with emotion and he looks away. His voice comes out rougher than he intended.
"So what am I supposed to do, huh? Let people think whatever the hell they want? Let them drag us through the mud?"
Donna watches him carefully, her eyes softening as she shakes her head.
"You're supposed to be human. To admit that maybe… maybe you don't have all the answers this time."
There's a beat of silence, and Donna's words rage like a tornado through Harvey's head. He feels the truth of it sinking in deeper than he's willing to admit.
Finally, Donna sighs, the tension in her shoulders softening just a little. She walks over, standing just a few feet from him, her presence grounding but also pushing him to a place he doesn't want to go.
"You need to let someone in." Her voice is quieter now, almost gentle.
He looks at her, her words pressing heavily on his chest. He knows she's not just talking about the tabloids, or the gossip, or the fallout. She's talking about everything he's been holding back, all the things he hasn't allowed himself to feel. For the first time in a long time, he doesn't have a quick comeback or a sharp retort. He's just… exhausted.
Harvey swallows hard, his throat tightening. He looks away from her because if he meets her eyes now, he might fall apart.
"I don't know how to do that," his voice barely above a whisper.
There's a long pause before Donna responds,
"Maybe it's time you figured it out."
Her words land softly, but they cut deep.
She gives him a sad smile before walking out, leaving him standing there, staring at the door.
Harvey turns back to his desk, his hand hovering over his phone. The tension in his chest is unbearable now. He pulls on his too-tight tie, as he scrolls through his contacts until he lands on the one name that might keep him from falling apart right there, right now.
…
Harvey shifts uncomfortably on the couch. Putting a pillow behind his back, to immediately toss it to the side again. His chest feels way too tight, his head is spinning, fragments of Donna's words constantly on repeat. A sharp contrast to the quiet of the therapist's office, the neatly arranged bookshelves and framed degrees on the walls almost mocking the chaos inside him.
Dr. Agard sits across from Harvey. She watches Harvey closely but doesn't say a word, waiting for him to make the first move.
Harvey's jaw tightens, his fingers drumming lightly against the armrest of the couch. He's never been one to open up easily, and sitting here, in this room, feels like he's about to walk into a cross-examination.
"Whenever you're ready, Harvey. There's no rush."
Harvey's eyes flicker up to meet the therapist's. He takes a breath, then exhales sharply to pull himself together, leaning back against the couch.
"You ever have one of those moments where everything feels… like it's just out of control?"
"Yeah. I think everyone has. What's making you feel that way?"
Harvey shifts uneasily, his fingers tightening around the armrest.
"Everything. My job, my relationships... Donna."
It's the first time he's acknowledged, aloud and in this room, that Donna isn't just a name in his life—she's at the core of what's unraveling him and the gravity of it lands harder than he thought it would. Dr. Agard doesn't push, she just waits, letting Harvey take his time.
After a pause, Harvey elaborates, "There was this article… gossip, really. They're saying things about us, me and Donna. It's not the first time. But this time it's... different."
Dr. Agard jots something down but keeps her focus on Harvey.
"Different how?"
Harvey hesitates. He's never been good at this; talking about his feelings, admitting vulnerability. But Donna's words are still echoing in his head: "You can't fight every battle by locking everything away."
"Because this time… I don't know if they're wrong," he says slowly.
Dr. Agard raises an eyebrow but doesn't interrupt.
"I've always kept her at arm's length. You know, rules, keep things professional, don't cross the line. But the truth is, I don't know if I can anymore. I don't know if I even want to."
He rubs his temples, frustrated with himself for admitting so much, even here.
"It sounds like you've been holding back for a long time."
Harvey scoffs softly, shaking his head.
"You could say that."
"What are you afraid of?"
Harvey falls silent, the question hanging in the air like a challenge. He stares at a spot on the floor, his mind racing through the reasons he's built his walls so high—his past, his failures, his mother. The rules he's lived by for so long have kept him safe, kept everything compartmentalized. But now, those same rules feel like they're strangling him.
"Losing control."
Dr. Agard leans forward slightly, sensing a shift in the conversation.
"Control of what?"
Harvey's eyes narrow.
"Of everything. My life, my work… her."
The words slip out before he can stop them. He's never admitted it out loud, but there it is—the real fear, the one that's been eating at him for years. He's afraid of losing Donna. Of letting her in and losing her all at once.
Dr. Agard stays quiet, letting Harvey's words settle.
"If I let her in, if I cross that line, what happens when it all falls apart? I'm the one people rely on. I fix things. But if I screw this up with her… I can't fix that."
Dr. Agard watches him for a moment, her tone gentle but firm.
"You've spent a long time making sure nothing gets too close, that you're always in control. But you can't control everything, Harvey. And from what it sounds like, Donna's not just another case for you to handle."
Dr. Agard's words are not much unlike Donna's earlier today. Harvey clenches his fists, his frustration bubbling to the surface.
"You don't get it. Every time I let someone in, they leave. My mom, my dad... and if I screw this up, if I mess things up with Donna, I don't know if I'll come back from that."
"It sounds like you've spent your whole life preparing for people to leave you. But what if Donna's not like the others?"
Harvey flinches at the suggestion as if it's too good to be true. He shakes his head, but something in his face softens. He knows Donna's different. She always has been. That's the problem—he can't afford to lose her.
"The walls you've built, the control you hold so tightly… what would happen if you let some of that go?"
Harvey doesn't answer immediately. He sits back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. The truth is, he's terrified. Terrified of letting Donna in, of losing her, of being vulnerable. But he's starting to realize that holding on so tightly isn't working anymore. Not with her.
"I don't know," he says quietly.
Dr. Agard leans back in her chair.
"You don't have to know all the answers today. But what you do need to figure out is whether holding on to that control is worth what it's costing you."
Harvey looks up at her. There's a storm brewing inside of him, a conflict he's been avoiding for years. He exhales slowly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I don't know how to let go."
Dr. Agard smiles faintly as if she's heard that confession a thousand times before.
"That's why you're here."
A/N: Let me know if you still like where this is going by leaving a review.
You can follow me on Twitter for updates LizzyMissLizz