I have not forgotten about this story and I promise you'll have a fourth and final chapter. Thank you to all who continue to leave reviews!
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As much as Harvey feels a deep sense of defiance whenever he's forced to admit that Mike is right about something, he has to acknowledge that he is, in fact, really fucking nervous. It's not just being a best man; he's done that song and dance before. Plus, he's a showman, he's used to this level of attention – in court, in the ring, in pretty much any kind of arena.
No, this isn't that.
Loitering in the hallway of his floor, waiting for his own name to be called, a scene unfolds before him in pieces:
Robert Zane beaming, dabbing hopelessly at the tears in his eyes with his pocket square.
Rachel, looking ethereal in white, gripping her bouquet with a shaky hand.
Donna, brushing Rachel's hair off her shoulder, then folding her into a hug. They exchange I love you's in hushed tones, their voices so gentle and sincere that Harvey has to look away.
And it's silly really, how monumental the moment feels when Donna turns to him with a question in her eyes. He holds out his arm, and she smiles easily, slipping her hand through the space he's made for her.
How many times has he waltzed through his front door? But this time carries a different weight to it; he feels the gravity of it in his bones. And it has nothing to do with the rows of guests waiting on the other side of his door or the wedding ring that's burning a hole in his pocket.
The music shifts and Donna gives his arm a gentle squeeze. "That's our cue," she tells him.
He can practically feel the nerves radiating off Donna. She swaps her bouquet into the arm that's locked around his, then she uses her free hand to adjust his tie once more. His own hand seems to move of its own accord, reaching up to clasp hers. Their eyes lock for a few charged seconds.
Robert clears his throat. "You're up, Red."
Hands fall away, and their roles snap back into focus. They fall into a slow step, instrumental music playing as they cross through the threshold of his condo and down the makeshift aisle that's lined with rose petals.
Guests smile up at him and Donna. Louis looks like his cheeks might burst if he grins any harder. Jessica's expression, as usual, gives far less away. But the woman is more sentimental than people realise, and he can see her eyes shining with unshed tears. And then there's Mike. Harvey has never seen him looking more calm or self-assured in the all the time they've known each other. This is the face of a man who is sure beyond any reasonable doubt.
As they separate at the end of the aisle, Harvey's eyes meet Donna's once more and everything else seems to fade into the background. This day is ostensibly about Mike and Rachel, but this one moment feels like it's just theirs.
He places a kiss on her cheek that's so chaste it edges on performative. When he pulls back, she's grinning like she knows he held back for their audience's benefit. There's something teasing in her expression, and she shakes her head at him, somehow managing to chastise him without words.
They untangle from each other and Donna takes her place on the opposite side of Mike, waiting for Rachel. Harvey settles beside Mike, and they share a fist bump – a move that has Donna rolling her eyes fondly.
Out of the corner of his mouth, Mike says. "Nice job."
"Yeah, I've really perfected walking in a straight line."
Mike raises his brow, eyes shifting to Donna briefly. In a hushed tone, he says, "I meant nice job playing it cool."
"Still obsessed with my love life, I see."
"Hey, I'm just getting married over here."
A few seconds later, Rachel comes down the aisle with Robert at her side. Harvey's gaze moves between Rachel and Mike. Rachel grins from ear to ear, tears quietly streaming down her face. Mike blinks back his own tears, his smile stuck somewhere between gratitude and awe – like he'd never believed he'd get so lucky.
Harvey knows what love looks like. He'd seen it etched across his father's features until the day he died. Seen it flicker across Scottie's heartbroken face. Seen it almost split Louis in two. This is different. It's real, honest.
When Rachel makes it to Mike, he doesn't even hesitate before pulling her into his arms and kissing her. Harvey respects that Mike didn't wait for the arbitrary I do.
There are a few moments in the ceremony that Harvey knows he will think about later:
How Mike bites back a sob when he calls Rachel his best friend and soulmate.
The deep, steadying breath that Rachel has to take before she can say her vows.
The way his own hand tremors when he hands Mike the ring.
The sound of Louis's wolf whistle when Mike and Rachel share their first kiss as a married couple.
But the one moment he'll replay over and over happens right after the ceremony ends, when Donna reaches for his hand, interlacing their fingers like it's the most natural thing in the world.
Donna had carved out an hour after the ceremony so Mike and Rachel could head up to the roof of Harvey's building and have their photos taken against the Manhattan skyline. It had actually been Harvey's suggestion, and Donna couldn't have envisioned a more perfect backdrop for her best friends.
In Harvey's living room, chairs are whisked away by the staff and stashed in Harvey's spare room. The reception quickly takes on an electric quality. Donna works ten hours a day with most people on the guest list, so she knows how readily they can blow off steam outside of office hours.
She instructs the caterers to start passing around the hors d'oeuvres (because god knows people need to start lining their stomachs) and pilfers a flute of Champagne for herself. She makes a quick escape to Harvey's bathroom to touch up her makeup. The guests know to use the other bathroom and not this one, but given that Donna is essentially the wedding planner, she gives herself a free pass.
She cleans up the smudged edges of her mascara and blends out the tear tracks in her foundation. She'd cried a lot during the ceremony, but it was worth it. Finishing with a fresh swipe of lipstick, she inspects her reflection one last time.
As she's adjusting the neckline of her dress, she hears the door to Harvey's bedroom slide open. She grabs her clutch and glass, then steps out of the bathroom to see Harvey. He meanders over to her, holding two flutes of Champagne.
"I've been gone five minutes."
He shrugs, closing the distance between them. "I thought you might need a drink."
"Already have one," she points out, holding up her half-empty glass. "That's a pretty flimsy excuse to follow me in here."
His lips curl into a smirk. "Does that mean I don't need an excuse?"
She breathes out his name in warning. "We talked about this last night."
Harvey sets both drinks down on his dresser. Donna feels her skin warm; empty hands are dangerous hands.
"And I want to revisit your terms."
"We both agreed not to let this," she gestures between their bodies, "interfere with Mike and Rachel's wedding."
Harvey tosses a glance behind his shoulder, then shifts his gaze around the room. "I don't see anything in here that we could be interfering with, do you?" he retorts, rocking back on his heels.
"There are dozens of guests right outside that door."
The warning goes unacknowledged as Harvey steps closer to her. "So, about these terms…" He plucks the flute out of her fingers and plants it on the dresser with the others. "They're a little vague, don't you think?"
He cocks his head playfully at her, but the boyish smile morphs into something closer to desire as he rakes his eyes over her. She feels her body flush with pleasure; Harvey rarely checks her out like this. Certainly not so brazenly.
"Harvey, I know I look good today, but—"
He shakes his head. "It's not just today."
She ignores the flutter in her chest. "It's natural for weddings to make people more… amorous."
Harvey lets out a laugh, inching closer. "Then what was last night?"
"A lapse in judgement."
Somehow his hands have found the bare skin of her lower back. "Really? That's what you're going with?"
Donna feels herself settle into his touch, and her own hands come up to rest on his chest. His tux is perfect, so her hands have no reason to be toying with his collar and yet…
She fists a hand in his jacket and pulls him to her so she can press her mouth against his. She feels the brief twitch of Harvey's smile before his lips open, his tongue finding hers. Harvey angles his head so he can deepen the kiss while he tightens his hold on her.
There's a wedding reception happening just outside of these walls, and it should matter, but Harvey has her body thrumming with adrenaline and desire. This kiss is no less passionate than yesterday's but there's a desperate edge to their movements. Harvey's door doesn't lock, and anybody could stumble in. Somehow they keep kissing on borrowed time.
As much as Donna would love to think with the other parts of her anatomy that are screaming, when Harvey starts to nudge her towards the bed, rationality takes over.
"We can't," she says, tearing her lips from his. Harvey, undeterred, peppers her neck with soft, wet kisses. "This is on hold, remember?"
Harvey chuckles against her neck, then, with visible effort, pulls himself away. "I'm getting a lot of mixed messages here, Donna."
Donna giggles at the sight of her freshly reapplied lipstick smeared all over Harvey's mouth. "Come here," she instructs, catching his elbow and dragging him into the bathroom.
Bringing a washcloth to his face, Donna cleans the lipstick off Harvey's mouth. It's no easy feat because he's grinning the whole time and rubbing distracting circles on her lower back. Once his mouth is back to presentable, Harvey reluctantly releases her so she can clean up her own lipstick.
As she brings the lipstick toward her mouth, Harvey presses into her from behind. His hands bracket either side of her on the bathroom counter and his lips press against the shell of her ear. The sight of their reflection sends a shudder through her body. One word from her and she knows he'd gladly hike up her dress and take her right there.
Harvey breathes the next words into her ear, "We're not done here."
He saunters out before she can form a coherent reply.
She doesn't bother with a fresh coat of lipstick.
The condo fills with applause as Mike and Rachel make their re-entrance as a married couple. Everybody raises a glass, crowding around the pair while they gravitate into each other's arms to dance.
Harvey's been to enough weddings to know they follow a very specific formula, and he's usually the first to duck out when he hears the opening bars of John Legend's All of Me. He can appreciate romance, but he has his limits.
At any other wedding, he'd simply grab a drink at the bar or flirt with the nearest beautiful woman, but today, he's happy to just spectate. Mike isn't exactly the world's smoothest dancer, but Rachel doesn't seem to mind one bit. He catches Donna's eyes briefly across the room. She's huddled beside Louis and Sheila, a glass of Champagne clutched close to her chest.
The song wraps up and Mike and Rachel signal for everyone else to join them on the dance floor.
"Think you can spare a dance for a former partner?"
Harvey grins at the familiar voice. He turns around, taking in the categorically stunning woman before him.
"You going to let me lead for once?"
Jessica lifts a single, perfectly groomed eyebrow. "I let you lead my firm into the ground, isn't that enough?"
Harvey flashes her a cheeky grin, then clasps her hand and ushers them toward the dance floor. They fall into a simple waltz.
"It was good of you to come."
Jessica shrugs, casting a look to her right at Rachel and Mike. "You show up for family."
The words make Harvey feel warm and he gives Jessica a grateful smile in return. They dance like this for a while, Harvey giving Jessica shit because she can't help but lead, Jessica blaming it on their height difference. He twirls her around, making a spectacle of dipping her.
"Always a show-off."
"Hope I don't make your boyfriend jealous."
Jessica's face twists in disgust. "Adults don't say boyfriend." She glances over his shoulder. "Besides, he's dancing with the maid of honour."
Harvey whips his head around and spots Donna dancing with Jeff on the other side of the room. He turns back to Jessica, whose lips have curled into a smirk.
"Try not to get whiplash, Harvey. I'm sure she'll save you a dance."
With a roll of his eyes, he twirls Jessica again, enjoying her little yelp of surprise. Once she straightens up, she lays a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, I need a proper drink."
"Is that your way of saying you want to break out my good scotch?"
They settle out on the balcony with fresh glasses of Macallan and, because he complained about being excluded, Louis joins them outside. They all clink glasses, each taking a generous sip. Jessica visibly relaxes. Louis pretends to like it. Harvey is just happy he isn't drinking Champagne anymore.
"A fake lawyer and a paralegal-turned-lawyer," Louis marvels as he swirls his glass around.
"Yeah, who would have thought those two crazy kids could work it out," Harvey says drolly.
"You mock," Louis points a finger at him, which Harvey lightly bats away, "but that is hard to find. And after everything I just went through with Sheila, I've got a newfound respect for those two for sticking by each other like they did."
"Couldn't have said it better myself," Jessica says.
"And to work together day in and day out and still be so crazy about each other? That's even more rare."
Louis might be referring to Mike and Rachel, but the words feel like they're directed at Harvey, toeing the line between obtuse and profound in a way that only Louis Litt knows how.
"Not all couples are built for it," Jessica says, staring out at the skyline. "Jeff and I certainly couldn't do it.
"Sheila and I are far too sexual creatures to share the same workplace."
Harvey chokes on his drink. Jessica shuts her eyes, shaking her head.
"I mean it, Harvey. This steed is far too wild to be tamed."
Harvey clears his throat. "Why'd you look at me when you said that?"
Jessica smirks, making a graceful exit and a faux excuse about having to find Jeff.
"You riding solo today, H-dog?"
Harvey swallows another mouthful of scotch. "I thought you agreed to leave that nickname in 2009."
"I made no such promise," Louis says with a shake of his head. He lifts the glass to his lips, taking another sip through his teeth. Harvey makes a mental note to fix him a vodka cranberry later. "You didn't want to bring a date?"
"Bringing a date to a wedding hosted in my own home is like betting on a match that you know is fixed." Louis frowns. "It's too easy," Harvey clarifies.
Louis's face unravels. "I get the context, Harvey. I just haven't seen you with anyone since Paula and I was curious – sue me."
There's an undercurrent of hostility in Louis's tone, and Harvey gets the sense that he's disappointed the man somehow. It takes him a few seconds to decode – conversations with Louis often do – but he quickly realises that this is another of Louis's attempts to bond with him.
"That ended a while ago."
"You seemed to like her."
"I did," he admits. "It just never felt…"
"Right?"
Harvey nods. The last thing he wants to do is dredge up his failed relationship, the latest in a series of many false starts. Although he was being facetious about not having a date, the thought of bringing someone had crossed his mind in the preceding weeks. But among the handful of women that have ever meant anything to him, he kept coming back to the only woman he wanted to share the day with.
"Donna didn't bring a date either."
Harvey brushes off Louis's uncanny ability to read his mind. "What's your point?"
Louis grins. "Just an observation."
Harvey makes a vague gesture over his shoulder, edging towards the balcony door. "I need a refill."
"Would you mind getting mine too H-do—"
He slides the door closed.
Sidestepping the guests on the dance floor, Harvey slinks off to the other side of his living area. Mike and Rachel are still wrapped up in each other, swaying slowly, completely ignoring the lively tempo of whatever song is playing. Happily in their own world.
A little while later, Robert approaches him and presses a fresh glass of scotch into his hand. "I never did thank you, Harvey."
Harvey cocks his head at the older man.
"For giving up your condo so my baby girl could get married," he clarifies.
"You stocking the place with unlimited booze is thanks enough, Robert."
Robert furrows his brow, swirling his glass. "Are you kidding me? Rachel would never go for that. She and Mike wouldn't take a dime from us."
Harvey feels a swell of admiration at hearing this. He and Mike didn't exactly grow up with money, but Rachel, she'd had all the financial advantages in the world and still wanted to make her own way, wedding traditions be damned. He respects that.
"There was a time when she had her heart set on The Plaza," Robert says.
Though it would have been breathtaking, Harvey can't picture Mike getting married at the plaza – or Rachel for that matter, even with all her class and tempered elegance. Material stuff has never seemed to matter much to them. Hell, he's pretty sure Mike would still be riding his bike to the office if Harvey hadn't given him so much shit about it at every opportunity.
"I was sceptical when Rachel first showed me your place," Robert continues. "But a man can admit when he's wrong."
"Who?" Harvey lifts a finger from his glass to point at Robert. "This man?"
Robert just shakes his head in that exasperated way that Harvey's grown fond of. The man casts a lazy look around his condo, surveying what is largely Donna's handiwork.
"You wouldn't even know that a fifty-year-old bachelor normally lives here."
Harvey snorts. "And what did you look like at fifty, Robert? Can you even remember back that far?"
Robert takes a swig of his scotch, murmuring the word jackass into his drink loud enough for Harvey to hear.
"Well, you're welcome, Robert," Harvey says, finally accepting the man's gratitude. "Though it's really Donna you should be thanking. Once Mike and Rachel decided to scale down, she orchestrated this whole thing in just a few weeks."
Robert pauses mid-sip. "Good god, man, is there anything that woman can't do?"
A laugh spills from Harvey's throat. 'You have no idea," he hums.
Laura calls out Robert's name, beckoning him to join her. Robert downs the last of his drink, then hands Harvey the empty glass. "She calls, I follow," he says, though the words are laced with deep fondness.
Harvey's eyes fall briefly to Donna, who's now being whisked around on the dance floor by Louis, her head thrown back in laughter. "I can relate."
"I'll catch you later, Harvey," he says, turning away.
"Oh, Robert?" The man pauses, glancing over his shoulder. "Stay away from my toilet."
Robert lets out a deep-bellied laugh that follows him as he wanders off.
Even amongst the dancing, chatting, schmoozing and drinking, Donna and Rachel manage to snatch a few quiet moments together. It just happens to be while Donna is hiking up Rachel's dress so she can use the bathroom. But Donna will still count it as one of their core, friendship-defining moments.
"You really shouldn't have to do this, Donna."
"Are you kidding me? I am your maid of honour." With one hand clutching the bunched fabric of Rachel's wedding dress, Donna places her other hand over her heart. "I am honoured to be doing this."
Rachel erupts into a fit of giggles. They paint a comical picture: Donna squatted on the floor of Harvey's bathroom, drying desperately to keep the fabric of her own gown from touching the tiles while she gathers Rachel's dress in her arms; Rachel's tanned legs peeking out from underneath layers of tule. When Rachel discreetly pulled her aside to request her help, Donna had considered bringing in a third set of hands – possibly Gretchen's – but the cramped space of Harvey's second bathroom was not designed for more than one person, let alone three.
There's a few seconds of silence, then a few more, then—
"Rachel, are you having performance anxiety?"
Rachel bursts out laughing. "I haven't peed in front of my girlfriends since college."
"Want me to make waterfall sounds in your ear?"
"Not helping," she laughs, shaking her head. "Maybe turn the faucet on? And talking is good, just give me something else to focus on."
"Like what?" she asks, reaching an arm out to the bason to flick the faucet on. Thank god for pilates or she'd never be able to keep her balance like this.
"I don't know, Donna, just anything more to mask the sound – this is awkward enough as it is."
Without thinking, she blurts out the thing she's been holding onto all day. "I kissed Harvey."
Rachel's mouth falls open. "You—what—where? Wait—"
"That was pretty much my reaction too."
After a long exhale, Rachel says, "You kissed him or he kissed you?"
"Does it matter?"
Rachel shoots her a look, then her voice softens, "Donna, you were distraught after you kissed him last time. It matters."
Donna feels a sharp pain in the arch of her foot. She readjusts her position, trying to find some relief in her heels. "This was definitely mutual. Both times."
"Both times?!"
"Are you ever going to pee?"
"Oh that happened the minute you turned the faucet on."
"Rachel Elizabeth Zane Ross."
Rachel urges Donna to turn her head away so she can finish up. After a moment, Rachel says, "We're good to go."
Both women stand as steadily as they can, Donna carefully manoeuvring the hem of Rachel's wedding dress so it just skims the floor. Once Rachel washes and dries her hands, she whirls around to face Donna.
"You kissed Harvey."
Rachel barely contains the glee in her voice, bouncing up and down in her ivory gown. The image tugs at Donna's heartstrings, because only Rachel would forget all about her own wedding reception so she could celebrate this moment with Donna.
"What does this mean?"
"We're trying to put off that discussion until tomorrow," Donna says. "This is yours and Mike's day."
Rachel's shoulders slump. "Donna, you can't just put your feelings on hold."
"That's exactly what we're doing," she says, tucking an errant hair behind Rachel's ear. The woman can see right through her and it's both wonderful and unnerving.
"If anything, weddings bring out these feelings in people."
"That's what I'm afraid of," Donna admits. "What if he's just feeling horny or lonely and I'm just… convenient?"
"Oh please," Rachel waves her off. "This is Harvey Specter. Besides, that man thinks the world of you, there's no way he would ever risk what you have for a spontaneous hook-up at a wedding."
Donna knows there's plenty of truth in Rachel's words, but she can't shake the uneasy feeling that after more than a decade of firm boundaries, they've crossed half of them in the last twenty-four hours. She wants to give in to the tension that's finally reached a crescendo, but the thought she can't get out of her head is a valid one: why now?
Lacing her hand through Rachel's, Donna steers them out of the bathroom. "As much as I would love to unpack this further, I have to give a maid of honour speech in like ten minutes and you kind of have to be there."
"We are finishing this later."
Having given countless opening and closing statements over the years, Harvey isn't the kind of person to get stage fright over a best man's speech. But after Robert had half of the room in tears with a story from Rachel's childhood and Donna had the guests cracking up or cheering every ten seconds, he's feeling a little intimidated to go last. Louis does nothing to ease his anxiety when he, rather audibly, says to Shiela, wow Donna's going to be a tough act to follow.
Once he's standing in front of everybody, Mike gives him an encouraging nod, while Rachel flashes him a reassuring smile. But Donna seems to know what's best for him because she tosses him a wink, arming him with the same level of confidence that she gives him every time she presses the can opener into his open palm.
"I've known Mike and Rachel and long time. Rachel put in years at our firm before I had the privilege of getting to know her." He pauses, sharing a tender smile with Rachel. "She was like no other paralegal we ever had. Then, she became the kind of lawyer we didn't know we needed."
The comment makes both Rachel and Jessica smile. "And, she's not afraid to call me out on my shit – or anyone else's for that matter." Harvey smiles wryly when Louis raises a glass in agreement. "As for Mike, well, he stumbled into my life in a pretty unorthodox way."
Donna stifles a laugh behind her hand. Jessica rolls her eyes.
"Life changed pretty fast after that – for both of us. Mike gained a mentor; I gained a pain in the ass."
The guests laugh, though Robert's is easily the loudest.
"Butch and Sundance," he says, sharing a knowing grin with Mike. "But as great a lawyer as he is, Mike was always distracted by one thing. Or, one woman, I should say."
A murmur of aw's filter through the room. Mike wraps an arm around Rachel, dropping a kiss onto her forehead.
"Back then, I didn't really know Rachel. And I kept thinking, this kid is going to jeopardise his whole career for his love life. It never occurred to me that it might work out…"
He scans the crowd, locking in on Donna.
"…that two people could be so completely right for each other."
He sees her sharp intake of breath and smiles. "It's pretty rare to watch two people find their soul mate." He pauses, directing his attention back to Mike and Rachel again. "But I think I speak for all of us in this room when I say that you two got it right. I've watched you two fall more in love every day. You proved me wrong a thousand times over," he says with a chuckle, earning smiles from the crowd.
"I see the way you love each other, without fear or doubt, and I – we – can all learn a lot from you both."
He raises his glass and the guests follow suit.
"To Mike and Rachel."
"To Mike and Rachel."
Everybody claps, and Rachel approaches Harvey, enveloping him in a tight hug.
"You're such a softie," she whispers, pressing a kiss into his cheek. He pulls back, blushing, and just a little embarrassed.
Mike wraps him into a hug next. "Thanks, Harvey."
Harvey claps him on the back, trying to bite back the emotion welling up in his chest. Goddamn weddings. "Any time, buddy."
They're about a few seconds away from getting really sappy when Donna announces it's time to cut the cake. People start forming a close circle around Mike and Rachel when he feels a hand thread through his. It's Donna, tugging him away from the crowd.
"Don—"
She doesn't answer him, just pulls him through the throng of guests. Everybody is a little tipsy now, hollering at Mike and Rachel, so nobody pays them any mind as Donna leads Harvey straight to his bedroom.
Once they're inside, she kicks the door shut with the spike of her heel, grabs hold of his tie and pulls him in for a searing kiss. His hands reach for her on instinct, one threading through her flaming hair and the other gripping her ass.
Her mouth is locked against his but her hands are roaming up his chest, unknotting his tie, undoing the first few buttons of his shirt. There's nothing teasing or exploratory about her movements. Her hands have found their way into his hair and she hikes up a leg around his waist, tongue moving hotly against his own. Harvey takes the hint, grips both legs and wraps them around his waist, lifting her up so he can carry her to his bed.
Though he's fantasised about almost every version of Donna, this is the one he thinks about most when he needs a quick, satisfying release: assertive, wanton, and completely uninhibited.
And he wants to tell her this – wants to tell her every filthy way he's ever imagined having her – but then she grips his hand and slides it under her dress until it's between her thighs.
"I want you, Harvey."
He can feel exactly how much she wants him and he feels his dick throb in response. But even then, he can't resist teasing her.
"Doesn't this violate your terms?"
Her brow furrows but Harvey slides a finger inside her, curling it just so, and watches as her face shifts from frustration to pure pleasure. Music has started again out in the living room, drowning out the soft moan that escapes from her mouth.
"I'm going to need you to be really clear," Harvey says, brushing his thumb over her clit.
"I want you to fuck me, Harvey.
The words alone are already better than any fantasy he's ever had. Even through her haze, Donna smirks like she knows just what he's thinking.
She reaches for his pants, unbuckling his belt and urging him closer.
"You know we're about to prove everyone right, don't you?" he says.
She laughs, pulling him on top of her. "A thousand times over."