It's me, hi, I'm the problem it's me. Just want to say thank you so much for the reviews on this story, especially those still asking for more! I'm sorry I abandoned this for a whopping ten months. The Suits Sidebar Podcast is helping me pull my head in and rediscover my love for the show. It's also so nice rewatching episodes without the fear that Donna and Harvey won't get together (like we had to when the show was airing week to week). Another silly chapter for these silly love-sick fools.
At this moment, Donna can't decide is she's being a crappier maid of honour or a crappier best friend because she hasn't heard a word Rachel has said in the last ten minutes. And it's definitely Mike and/or wedding-related because Rachel has that faraway look in her eye.
It took all of Donna's self-control not to demand that Ray turn the car around and take her straight back to Harvey's apartment. Several blocks into the journey, she'd finally calmed her reactive body down. She used the rest of the car ride to imagine how that scenario might have played out had they not been interrupted, though Mike's insistent knock keeps ruining the fantasy.
Donna can't even re-live the moment now – and she'd really like to, especially between her sheets with nowhere pressing to go.
She hears her name. Once, twice, maybe even a third time, but all she can think about is Harvey devouring her whole right there on his kitchen—
"DONNA."
The glass of wine she'd been precariously holding slips out of her grasp, spilling all over Rachel's rug.
"Shit, Rach. I'm so sorry."
Donna jumps to her feet in search of a towel. As she tends to the rug with a damp cloth, Rachel lays a hand on her arm.
"Sweetie, it's white wine – it's not a big deal."
"Even so."
Donna dabs at the area with great force until Rachel has to physically remove the cloth from her clenched fingers.
"Donna, relax."
Donna releases a long breath, allowing Rachel to pry the cloth way. They return to their designated seats on the couch and Rachel generously tops up Donna's glass.
"I don't know if that's helping," Donna says with a laugh.
"Donna, I feel like this is my fault," Rachel says, voice laden with guilt. Rachel sets the bottle down and clasps Donna's free hand. "I asked you to help me plan this wedding after we pushed it back so many times and I've caused you all this extra stress."
"Rach, no. I promise this isn't about the wedding."
Rachel shoots her a look.
"Okay, sure maybe it's a little about the wedding."
Donna takes a large gulp of her wine, debating just how much information to share with her best friend. Rachel is the one person she tells everything to – and one of the few people in her life who actually has some insight into her convoluted history with Harvey.
Ultimately, she decides it's better to just keep it to herself. Tomorrow is about Rachel and Mike finally getting their happy ending. Donna isn't about to detract from that.
"Just nerves, that's all. I know you wanted to scale back, but I want to make sure this is still the most special day of your life."
Rachel breaks out into a warm smile, but just as quickly as it appears, her face snaps back into a cool, neutral expression.
"As much as I love you for saying that, I call bullshit."
It's almost terrifying the way Rachel has just transformed into a lawyer right before her eyes. She might as well be sitting in front of Jessica Pearson.
"Let's just focus on you, shall we?"
Rachel studies Donna a moment longer, her gaze unwavering. Donna feels like she's sat in a deposition. It's unnerving.
"Just because I'm getting married tomorrow, doesn't mean you should hide how you're feeling."
"I don't know how I'm feeling," Donna says. "But there will be plenty of time to work it out after your wedding."
Rachel's expression softens. "Are you sure?"
Donna thinks, rather dramatically, I'm not sure of anything anymore. Outwardly, she just reassures her best friend. "I'm sure. Now tell me, are you planning on taking Mike's last name? Because Rachel Ross sounds a little too much like a B-grade detective to me."
Rachel grins, shaking her head. "I finally got the juris doctor after my name – there's no way in hell I'm changing that."
Donna winks at her. "That's my girl."
They reign it in after a few drinks, both wanting to wake up fresh in the morning for when the makeup artist and hair stylist arrive.
They order food, which is French and expensive and there's too much foie gras for Donna's liking. Rachel is possibly the biggest foodie Donna knows, and while she can appreciate good cuisine, she loves crappy Thai takeout the way that Harvey likes a fast-food burger or a hot dog from the sidewalk. The idle thought reminds her that she needs to make sure they stagger the hors d'oeuvres as people arrive tomorrow. It also reminds her of Harvey. Naturally.
They polish off the food and Rachel gets Donna set up in the guest room.
"Well, Rach, I'd love to offer you a pearl of wisdom on your last night as an unmarried woman," Donna says, hovering by the door, "but I'm fabulously unmarried myself."
Rachel wraps her in a tight hug. "You have done more than enough, I'm just so happy I get to have you up there with me."
"Love you, sweetie. Go get your beauty sleep."
Minutes stretch into an hour, with Donna far too wired to sleep. She starts mentally running through her schedule for tomorrow before the ceremony starts at three.
Breakfast with Rachel and her mom
Hair and makeup
Photographer arrives for pre-wedding snaps
Call Ray to bring me to Harvey's
Make sure the flowers are set up
Everyone gets into position
Rachel arrives
Her phone buzzes from the bedside table with a text from Harvey:
Stop thinking about your to-do list.
She smiles in disbelief. It's moments like these that remind Donna how well they know each other. She types a response.
How did you know?
His reply comes only a few seconds later. Let's call it a hunch.
She's in the middle of a text, phone in hand, when Harvey calls her. Her stomach does a little flip when she answers.
"What are you doing?" she says in an exasperated tone.
Harvey's low chuckle rumbles through her ear. "That's how you answer the phone now? Thank god you're not answering mine anymore."
"There's a lot I don't do for you anymore, Harvey."
She hears him suck in a breath and realises just how her words sounded. She squeezes her eyes shut, mortified.
"Professionally," she clarifies.
"Good thing this isn't a professional call, then."
Donna is very aware of the timbre of his voice and the fact that she's in bed while they're having this conversation. She tries to make a point of not speaking to Harvey like this; it creates too many blurred lines in their already murky relationship.
"So, why are you calling me?" she asks, trying to hide the tremor in her voice.
There's silence for a few excruciating seconds.
"Harvey?"
"I wanted to hear your voice," he admits.
There's that stomach flip again. Donna tries to play off the implications of his words, "You hear my voice every day."
"Not like this, not often."
Just at midnight when you need someone.
Donna feels her body deflate. Maybe that's all this is. Harvey's lonely and she's the first person on his speed dial. For a moment, she feels compelled to hang up, not wanting to indulge this sudden whim of Harvey's. Their kiss be damned. Then again—
"Do you want me to go?" he asks, his voice suddenly quiet.
"Yes." She pauses. "No."
Harvey breathes out a laugh, diffusing some of the tension.
"You sure know how to throw a girl off her game, though," Donna confesses.
"Sounds like you're shirking your maid of honour duties."
"With less than honourable thoughts."
Donna swears she can hear a small groan escape Harvey's mouth.
"Gotta love Mike's shitty sense of timing."
She's gripped by the temptation to ask him what he'd planned on doing if they hadn't been rudely interrupted, but Donna knows exactly where that line of questioning can lead. She is in Rachel's guest bedroom after all.
Donna hears a shuffle of feet outside her door, sees the warm glow of the living room light peak underneath her door. She idly wonders how soundproof Rachel's walls are. Reason and sense out.
"I think for tomorrow, we should…"
Donna absently twists the fabric of her comforter, battling with what she should say versus what she actually wants to say.
"Yeah?" Harvey probes.
"I think we should just focus on the wedding. You be the best man, and I be the maid of honour."
Donna hears a low chuckle rumble in Harvey's throat.
"What if we just be Harvey and Donna?"
She huffs into the phone. "You think you're so cute."
"I happen to know I'm so cute."
"Don't forget humble," she teases. "I mean, I think we put… whatever this is… on hold for the day."
Though the words fumbled out of her mouth, she feels confident that it's the right move. Their kiss aside, her relationship with Harvey is complex, it's not the sort of thing she wants to try and untangle in the middle of her best friend's wedding. Emotions will be running high enough.
"You're probably right," Harvey says.
"I should go," she reluctantly admits.
Harvey is silent for a moment; Donna suspects he's forming a dozen counter arguments about why they should stay on the line with each other.
"Big day tomorrow."
A few seconds of silence pass, though they seem to stretch on forever.
"Thanks for calling."
"Thanks for answering."
They don't hang up though, and Harvey's breathing is the last thing she hears before she falls asleep.
Wearing a tie every single day of his working career should have prepared him for this moment, but Harvey seems to have completely lost the ability to tie a Windsor knot. He frowns in the mirror as he fumbles with the tie, and he spots Mike suppressing a laugh behind him.
"You uh, need a hand there, Harvey?"
Harvey sighs, unknotting his tie and starting over for what feels like the tenth time.
"I know how to tie a tie, Mike."
"Really? 'Cause you're doing an excellent impression of someone who has never done it before."
Frustrated, Harvey leaves the tie alone for a second and buttons his cufflinks. He casts a glance at Mike, who evidently had no trouble getting dressed. He looks sharp, confident. It's hard to remember him as the same kid on the bike with the messenger bag. Today, next to him, Harvey looks like a dishevelled mess. Or as close to one as he is capable of being. If Donna were here, she'd be analysing the deeper meaning behind every winkle in his suit and each hair out of place.
"Harvey, if I didn't know better, I'd say you seem nervous."
"Then it's a good thing you don't know any better."
Mike saunters over to the bar cart that Harvey had stashed away the day before and helps himself to a glass of scotch.
"You planning on sharing that?" Harvey asks.
"Actually, it's for you," he says, handing the glass to Harvey. "You seem to need this more than me, and I want to keep a clear head for the ceremony."
Harvey shakes the glass experimentally. "I don't need Dutch courage for your wedding, Mike."
Mike slips his hands into his pockets, smiling. "No, but I figure after a couple you might be more forthcoming about what I walked into last night."
At that, Harvey knocks back his drink. He hands the empty glass back to Mike, then turns back to the mirror, reaching for his tie once more.
"No idea what you're talking about."
Mike ditches the glass on Harvey's bedside table. "Really? You don't remember us having lunch, then me saying we had to make sure you didn't fu—"
"Shouldn't you be mingling? Aren't these your guests in my condo?"
"What's that old saying? Denial is not just a river in Egypt?"
"What's that other saying? Shut your goddamn mouth?"
Mike approaches him wearing what can only be described as a shit-eating grin. Harvey remembers when he used to hold the upper hand in their exchanges. Simpler times.
Mike gestures to the tie dangling around Harvey's neck.
"Absolutely not," Harvey says.
Mike reaches out a hand. Harvey bats it away.
"Harvey, will you get over yourself?"
Harvey relents, dropping his hands by his side with a roll of his eyes. Mike makes quick work of the tie, doing his best to configure the knot so it lays flat.
"Well isn't this tender moment."
Mike squirms at the sound of Robert's voice.
"Robert," Harvey greets him.
"If you don't mind, Harvey, I need a minute with my future son-in-law."
Harvey sees Mike blanch at the request. He claps him on the shoulder. "Knock yourself out."
"By the way," Robert says, catching Harvey on his way out, "Your girl's here."
He frowns. "My girl?"
"You know, Red."
Mike's knowing smirk is the last thing Harvey sees as he exits his bedroom.
Last night, his apartment had been a blank canvas. Today, it is completely transformed. A makeshift aisle runs down the length of his apartment, leading to an arch adorned with pink and white roses. It sits flush against the window, the cityscape behind it. Chairs bracket the aisle on either side. Some guests have already begun taking their seats; he nods politely to a few. His kitchen, meanwhile, has been converted into a bar, which has already accumulated a small line of guests. A handful of wedding staff buzz around, their schedule no doubt coordinated down to the second by Donna.
Harvey spots the woman in question toying with the roses and lights that wrap around the pillar in the centre of his apartment. Her smooth, toned back is exposed to him. Her dress is silk and backless, the colour of red wine, which is appropriate, given that she looks like she's been poured into it.
Harvey weaves through the guests, acknowledging several familiar faces. Louis tries to catch his attention, but Harvey ignores his wild flailing in pursuit of Donna. When he reaches her, there's a small frown worrying her brow.
"Everything turned out perfectly."
She spins around to address him. "Harvey, the only thing you had to do this morning was put on a suit." She hums, then cocks her head to the side. He knows that look; she's assessing his tie. "And you didn't even do that right."
Harvey takes an innocent step closer. "So fix it."
If this were an ordinary day at the office, if yesterday had never happened, Donna never would have hesitated. In fact, she probably would have pulled him aside and fixed it without asking. Now though, he watches her grapple with the request. Feels the air between them crackle.
Eventually, she relents, taking his tie in her hands and carefully unlooping it from its crooked knot. Her fingers briefly caress his neck as she lifts his collar so she can realign each side of his tie.
While she works, her eyes are glued to the task at hand, and given that she's done this hundreds of times before, he knows it's not because she needs to concentrate. And that's fine, because he'll treat this moment as an invitation to stare at her mouth.
"Stop it."
Harvey's mouth twists into a grin.
"Stop what?"
Although she ignores the bait, the corner of her mouth quirks upwards, as if she's trying – and failing – to suppress a smile. Harvey counts it as his first victory of the day.
She finishes his tie, tightening the knot just so. Their eyes lock.
"How do I look?"
"Smug."
Harvey leans in, whispering in her ear, "Liar."
"God, Harvey – what do I have to do to get your attention?"
Louis's voice is like a bucket of ice water. Harvey pulls back from Donna, putting a safe distance between them.
"You were trying to get my attention?"
Louis wears a deadpan expression. "You looked right at me and walked straight over to Donna." Louis gives Donna the world's quickest onceover. "You look absolutely spectacular, by the way, which I'm sure Harvey hasn't even bothered to tell you."
"You're right," Donna says in a teasing lilt. "He hasn't."
Louis shakes his head, and Harvey is certain that he hears the man utter the word buffoon under his breath.
"Listen, I wanted to ask you something, Harvey. Do you want to give your speech first or are you happy to go after me?"
"Your—what?"
"They asked you to speak?" Donna marvels.
"Well, not in so many words," Louis says. "But you're giving a speech, Harvey's giving a speech..."
"We're in the wedding party, Louis," Harvey says, feeling himself growing exasperated. His condo has never felt quite so claustrophobic before.
"Oh, look, there's Mike now," Louis says in a rush, squeezing past Harvey and Donna. "I'll just ask him."
And just like that, they're alone again. Surrounded by a few dozen of their colleagues.
"You want to get some air?" Harvey asks, trying his luck.
"I can't, Rachel's going to be here soon. I need to start coordinating everyone into position," she says. "That includes you."
Donna gives his elbow a soft squeeze and as she turns, Harvey clasps her hand. "You look beautiful," he says. "Sorry I couldn't get it out before."
Harvey hears her intake of breath, and it reminds him that he really needs to tell that her more often.
"You're forgiven," she says, reluctantly moving away from him. "I'll see you up there."