"And who are you?" Donna eyes the teenager as he stands in front of Harvey's record collection, his fingers lightly tracing over the spines of the neatly stacked vinyls. She crosses her arms, her voice dripping with her trademark mix of charm and sarcasm. "You know, people rarely walk in here like they own the place... unless they're Harvey Specter. I'm assuming you're not here auditioning to be him."
The boy glances over his shoulder at her, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers... but then who would run the world, right?"
Donna's eyebrows lift in surprise. She tilts her head, intrigued now. "Kill all the lawyers? Well, that would certainly make my life easier, but who would I have to outsmart every day?" she quips, with a smirk of her own. She stares at him for a beat before she adds, "Quoting Shakespeare to me? Bold choice, kid."
"Yeah, well… A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool," Eli responds coolly, turning back to the records, but she catches the slight tension in his shoulders, as if he's not entirely comfortable under her gaze. He picks up a vinyl, flipping it over in his hands absently.
Donna watches him for a second longer, her amusement growing into something more like genuine interest. "Theater kid, huh?"
He shrugs. "Just someone who's learned how to play his part."
Donna's smile fades slightly as she senses the deeper meaning. She softens, stepping a little closer. "I'm Donna, by the way," she introduces herself. "Harvey's in a meeting right now, but he'll be here soon."
"I can wait," Eli mutters.
"What's your name?"
"Elijah. Elijah Caldwell."
Recognition flickers across her face. "You're Mike's pro bono."
"Yup. That's me."
She immediately regrets how impersonal the words sound and quickly softens her tone. "I didn't mean it like that," she says, offering a smile. "You're not just a case file."
Eli gives a dry laugh. "Sometimes it feels like I am," he growls out to her, unable to keep it to himself.
Donna remains silent for a moment, reading the nuances in his face. He looks broken, but oddly, not beaten—yet he appears so utterly alone that for an instant, she considers hugging him, or at least reaching out and squeezing his arm. But she doesn't want to impose, make him feel uncomfortable.
"Hey, Elijah," she says gently. "You know, Harvey's the best lawyer this city has ever seen. He won't lose."
"Eli," he corrects softly, almost like it's a concession he didn't intend to give. "You can call me Eli."
Donna smiles warmly, sensing a small victory in the way the teenager offers his nickname, like he's letting his guard down just a fraction. "Nice to meet you, Eli," she murmurs.
Eli's gaze flickers toward her before returning to the record in his hands. For a moment, it's as if he's contemplating whether to say something more, to let the wall drop a little further. But then he just nods, setting the album back down carefully.
Before Donna can press further, the door to Harvey's office swings open, and the man himself strides in. "Donna," he greets her with that familiar half-smirk, half-smile that always hints at more than it says. "I see you two have already met?"
"We have," she replies, mirroring that same twist of her mouth. "I was just walking past your office when I saw you had a visitor. Figured I'd make sure he behaves himself."
"Well, if you had been looking out for him before he met Mike, he definitely wouldn't be in this mess." He throws a glance at Eli to make sure the kid isn't offended, but the teen just watches them with a quiet intensity, like he's piecing something together from their dynamic.
"He has me now, Harvey," Donna shoots back. "So maybe it's you who should behave," she teases.
"Guess I better, then," he replies. He holds her gaze a moment too long, his smile softening at the edges. For a second, it's as if they're the only two people in the room.
Eli clears his throat, breaking the moment. "So… are you guys, like… together?"
Harvey almost chokes on his own spit, his eyes flicking back to the kid, while Donna lets out a quiet laugh, her cheeks tinged with just a hint of color. "Oh, that ship has long sailed, darling," she notes, shaking her head.
"Right," Harvey says with a crooked grin, but there's a flicker of something else in his eyes as he meets her gaze once more. A part of him wonders what it says about them—that a sixteen-year-old kid, who knows nothing about their history, would jump to that conclusion. Should he be concerned?
"Hey, Donna," Eli calls after her, his voice catching her just as she turns to leave. "What you said about outsmarting everyone around here?" As he holds her gaze, a slow smirk spreads across his face. "The truth is rarely pure and never simple."
Harvey raises a brow, glancing between Eli and Donna, clearly thrown off by the teen's words.
"Oscar Wilde," Donna smiles knowingly, with the ease of someone who lives and breathes words. She looks at Harvey with a playful glint in her eye. "You better win this case," she warns, "Because when you're done with this kid, I plan to take him to Broadway."
Eli's eyes widen, the sharp edge of his attitude morphing into breathless wonder. "W-wait, you're serious?"
Donna tilts her head, studying him with gentle curiosity. "What? You've never been?"
He chuckles, though there's a trace of sadness beneath it. "You're asking if I've seen a Broadway show? Ma'am, I've never even set foot inside a theater." He shrugs, his shoulders tensing as if bracing against old disappointments. "My stage has always been out there... just trying to find my place in this world."
Donna's smile softens. "I could tell," she murmurs. "You've got a touch of Hamlet in the shadows, a bit of Puck in the way you handle people. You're trying to outwit the world, to steal back pieces that were taken from you. And, you know, that's interesting, because…" She makes a dramatic pause. "It reminds me a bit of someone else I know," she notes with a cluck of her tongue, turning back to Harvey, an eyebrow raised. "And he's calling me ma'am," she quips. "Harvey, the kid's got more class than you."
Harvey rolls his eyes but can't hide a small, amused smirk. He wouldn't admit it to her, or the kid, but he doesn't even understand half of this theater mumbo jumbo—is this how Donna feels when she listens in on his conference calls with all the legal jargon?
Donna steps closer to him, her playful expression replaced with something more serious, almost fierce. "I'm not joking, Harvey. Whatever you and Mike are planning, it better be ironclad. Or I swear, I'll find a way to bring down the house on this whole fucking system."
Harvey meets her gaze, his own expression hardening. "You gotta trust me, Donna," he says, his voice steady, though he hates the hint of doubt in her tone, hates that he even has to remind her. She should have faith in him—always.
"I do trust you," she murmurs, and there's a rawness in her voice that draws him in. "But I don't trust the system," she adds with a sigh. "So, please, Harvey, I need you to…"
"I will," he says, the promise thick in his voice, seeing a touch of sadness in her expression, the way her Adam's apple bobs as she swallows. "I promise." She mouthes a thank you, flashing him a weak smile, before she walks out the door. Once she's out of sight, Harvey turns back to Eli. "So, what was that line about 'the truth is rarely pure and never simple'? Because in my book, truth's pretty simple: either you're guilty or you're not. And right now, kid, you look pretty damn guilty."
Eli shrugs, ignoring the comment entirely. "Donna's cool, man. You should really take a chance on her."
Harvey's jaw tightens. "We're talking about you, not me."
"I bet if she made a move on you, your balls would burst with excitement," Eli retorts, a sly grin on his face.
Harvey barely manages to keep his expression in check at the brazen remark, but he snaps back quickly, refusing to let it slide. "Listen, Shakespeare," he says, voice low. "You might want to worry about your own balls, 'cause Andrew Malik's gonna grab them and squeeze real hard until you whine and give him what he wants." He pauses, arching an eyebrow. "Besides, I have a girlfriend."
"Wow, she must be a real catch if that's how you're ogling Donna," Eli quips.
"I wasn't og—" Harvey starts, then catches himself, huffing in frustration. "You know what? Let's go see Mike."
