#darveyfic

[andyoucallmeupagain]

the darveyfication of say don’t go

don’t text.

[cassether]

Chocolate Sauce and Candy Canes

Pairing: Darvey

Category: Romance/Fluff/Christmas

Summary: Donna gets into a predicament trying to remove some unwanted mistletoe from the bullpen and Harvey shows up to rescue her.

AN: My Darvey Christmas contribution :D

Harvey enters the bullpen eyes skimming the overzealous festive decorations in search of Donna. It's past nine and everyone's gone home, save for the named partners upstairs, and his brows furrow unable to spot her amidst the array of colorful lights. The text she sent him was ambiguous at best and he checks it again making sure he didn't miss anything.

Downstairs, need help - D

Not a lot there he can read into and he calls out her name hearing a sound (squeak?) from above him. Turning, he runs his gaze up to where she's sat perched on top of a metal shelving unit. He's assuming it used to house the mess spilling out at his feet and he steps over the folders and papers rounding the clutter to stand beside her dangling legs. She's at least six or seven feet up, head just about skimming the ceiling, and he shoots her a bewildered look. "You want to explain this one to me?"

There's a note of intrigue beneath the question and heat crawls along the back of her neck as she innocently holds out a sprig of mistletoe.

He spots it and raises an eyebrow blowing air into his cheeks. "Please tell me you weren't-"

"I wasn't hanging it." She defends, though in hindsight the reason behind the ridiculous predicament isn't much better. "Someone put it up here and one of the associates complained. I was trying to get it down when..." she swings her hand motioning to the broken shelves below. Thanks to her yoga sessions she was able to pull herself up in time but getting down turned out to be more of a challenge.

He glances at the metal heaped on the floor and worry drives his gaze back to her. "Are you okay?" She nods but the reassurance doesn't quite settle the unease rolling through him and he exhales slowly. She was lucky. If the thing had toppled she could have been seriously hurt. Fortunately she wasn't and he uses sarcasm to try and deflect from the concern. "You know there's this ingenious invention called a ladder."

She flips her hair to the side rolling her eyes at him. "Are you going to help me down or not?"

The height isn't a problem. He can reach the top of her legs without any issue but the stability is more worrying and he pushes the side of the unit testing its foundations. The things seems sturdy enough and he stretches up motioning to her cell. "Pass me your phone." It'll be easier for her to slide down without holding it and he takes the device placing it safely in his pocket, pointing to her seven-inch stilettos next.

"You want me to take off my shoes?" She asks incredulously, feigning offense at the suggestion.

"Donna..." there's a note of warning to his tone, "I'd like to avoid a trip to the emergency department wherever possible."

She concedes with a reluctant 'go ahead' and he slides off the first shoe tossing it to the ground, wincing at the glare she shoots. He doesn't apologize but is more careful with the next one placing it down by his feet. After today he's seriously going to consider buying her a functional pair of flats for Christmas. "How did you climb up in the damn things anyway?'

"I could go into battle with those shoes on." She insists, folding her arms across her chest with a huff. They're her most comfortable pair of Jimmy Choo's and there was logic behind her reasoning. The extra height would have been the boost she'd needed if the stupid shelves hadn't careened down with a domino-like effect.

"And who exactly do you think is coming up there to fight you?" He asks with a smirk, starting to see the humorous side of things. He's still not pleased she attempted the feat on her own but the situation is kind of funny or at least he's starting to think so.

The amusement in his expression becomes apparent and despite her embarrassment she relaxes under the warmth of his gaze. "You should be thanking me from stopping a sexual harassment suit." She waves the sprig of mistletoe with a teasing smile, "and don't even think about copping a feel on the way down."

A laugh builds in his throat and he puffs it out with a wink, "you and I both know that wouldn't be harassment."

She blushes at the insinuation but doesn't fluster.

Much, anyway.

"You're an idiot."

He grins at the insult lifting his hands in mock defense. "Hey, if you don't want my help I can always go find Louis." It's an empty threat and they both know it. He wouldn't dare rope Louis in scared she would actually break something and he concedes to the fact, shrugging out of his suit jacket and hanging it over the nearest petition.

She wiggles herself closer to the edge taking a deep breath as he crosses back rolling up his sleeves. It looks higher than it probably is but she's still nervous and tries to cover the anxiety with a playful warning. "No sneaking a look up my dress mister."

There's a smart retort on his lips but he swallows it not trusting his body will identify it as a joke. After all, he's about to have his hands full of her and attempts to clear the less than appropriate thought from his mind. "Don't worry..." his lips turn up innocently, "I'll be a complete gentleman. You ready?"

She hesitates with a decided 'no' poised on the tip of her tongue. Although his hands reach almost to her thighs they don't seen close enough to take her weight and she panics darting her gaze around the room. "Maybe we should try to find a ladder?"

The doubt expands uncomfortably in his chest and he lowers his arms regarding her seriously. "Donna, I'm not going to drop you."

There's a trace of hurt beneath the assurance, unreadable in his expression but she knows it's there. Only it isn't Harvey she doesn't trust, it's gravity, and she ducks her head sheepishly. "It's not you, I just... what if I'm too heavy?"

He isn't worried in the slightest and offers her a confident smile. "You won't be."

She thinks it over, her gaze trailing down to the muscles caged beneath his fitted shirt. She knows he goes running daily and boxes but her height is above average and she's still not convinced by the math. "You don't even know how much I weigh."

Warning bells sound off at the comment and he knows better than to encourage the conversation. A women's age and weight are an inevitable minefield and he leans against the unit with a smirk, "that's a trap and I'm not falling for it." She rolls her eyes turning her head away and he lets out a loose sigh, lifting his fingers to brush the inside of her calf. When she glances at the contact he softens his expression holding her gaze. "Donna I won't let you get hurt, I promise."

There's nothing but assurance in his voice and she bites the inside of her cheek swallowing her nerves. "Okay."

Relieved by the response he lets go and angles his body to the side, stretching until his fingertips press against her thigh. "Just reach for my shoulder and I'll take care of the rest. All right, on three."

She exhales slowly, waiting for the count, and pushes off the edge letting out a gasp when he sweeps up her knees catching her around the waist with a jolt. She flings her arm around his neck to keep from falling but his hold is effortless and she meets his gaze feeling heat burn her cheeks.

"You okay?" He checks to make sure she isn't hurt and is relieved by her quick nod. "Good-" he readjusts her weight but doesn't let go, "because I'm not putting you down until you swear to me you won't do anything that stupid again."

She pouts, fairly certain the threat isn't real but there's no doubt in her mind the concern is genuine and her embarrassment gives way to a light smirk. "Unless mistletoe becomes a monthly tradition I can safely say that was a once off."

He shakes his head with only a trace amount of amusement in his tone. "Nope not good enough." She fixes him with a look but he doesn't care. He isn't going to relent not until he hears her say it. "I'm serious Donna, that whole thing could have collapsed."

There's worry beneath the light warning and it stirs through her chest prompting a genuine response. "No more climbing on furniture... I promise."

Technically the agreement means he should put her down but having her in his arms feels long overdue and he hesitates trying to formulate some sort of reasoning when Louis' voice rings out across the bullpen.

"Harvey! Donna? Are you guys down-"

He stops dead his eyes widening at the sight of the firm's COO in the named partner's arms. A sprig of mistletoe thrown haphazardly over the the lawyer's shoulder.

"Louis-"

"This isn't what it looks like."

They both simultaneously try to defend their innocence but he just stares with semi-excited shock. Not what it looks like his ass. Do they think he was born yesterday? "I knew it! I mean I didn't know know it, but I knew it!"

Harvey inwardly groans feeling Donna stifle a giggle at the reaction. Screw it. The easiest way out of the awkward confrontation is to wear it and he does, plastering on a confident smirk. "Louis you're right. It's exactly what it looks like and we're kinda in the middle of it, so..."

Louis' face turns about six shades of red as the insinuation drills though him. He does not need a visual and shields his gaze stumbling back awkwardly. "Yeah sure... I'll just, you two keep-" he shakes his head trying to clear a parade of unwanted images, "you know what... I need a day."

Donna buries a laugh into Harvey's shoulder as Louis barrels out and she admonishes him with a light slap. "That was mean."

He hikes up an eyebrow, half-way between flirting and serious. "Who said I was joking?"

She holds his gaze suddenly heightened to the feel of his body pressed against hers and the 'sure of himself' smug look threatening to disarm her. "Harvey," the soft caution spills out and her heart skips when it doesn't seem to deter him.

"Donna." He parrots back, side-eyeing the object bunched around his neck. "You are holding mistletoe and it is Christmas."

The smirk on his lips makes her almost forgot about the building tension and she breaths out an indignant huff, "since when do you believe in festive traditions?"

"Since beautiful women stared dropping into my arms with them." He grins broadly, pleased with himself and enamored by the pink flush that speckles across her cheeks.

She lets the boyish amusement wash over her but the harmless flirting is tipping into something more dangerous and she resolves to steer them away from it. "You need to stop it."

It's hardly a forceful command and he ignores it curling his fingers ever so slightly around her rib cage. "Why?"

"You know why." A shiver runs through her body as she mirrors his words from what feels like a lifetime ago and a brief flicker of doubt seems to knock him down a peg. She could leave it at that. Work her way down from his arms and shrug it off but instead she sighs, doing what he couldn't and giving him an actual answer. "Because it's never just a kiss between us Harvey."

He gives the comment honest thought. She's right but that's sort of the point and he relaxes his jaw masking the need to dive into the push and pull going on between them. He wants to, is ready to, and he leans in closer teasing her lips with his breath. "Maybe that should tell us something."

Her pulse drums loudly in her ears as he hovers just shy of kissing her, his hoarse whisper making her feel dizzy with anticipation. "You're still holding it." It takes her a moment to realize he means the mistletoe, that if she wants out the sprig is her chance to do so, but she doesn't let go bunching it more tightly against his neck instead.

His mouth is on hers in an instant the kiss gentle but demanding and she rakes her hand along his stubble encouraging the tentative exploration. It isn't like the last time or even the other time. It's new, full of craving and fascinating leaving her wanting more when he breaks it with a smug smile. She swallows, the need to be on an even playing field washing over her and she finds his gaze with forced composure. "You going to put me down now, hero?"

His lips wind into a lopsided grin as he obliges letting her slide to the ground, pressing his hand to the small of her back to keep her steady. "Told you I wouldn't drop you."

There's a hint of egotism to the claim and she exhales slowly, testing the boundaries between them. "You also said I wouldn't get hurt." It's a question and a statement in one, the need to understand his intentions drumming through her, and she stills as his fingers slide up to push back her hair.

"I'm not about to break that promise either." His mouth spreads assuringly, hand dropping to edge of her waist. This is who they are; they're friends who flirt and drink, call each other up at all hours and the 'more' is just an extension waiting finally to be explored. "I think it's about time we started a new tradition, don't you?"

He pulls her closer and a flutter of excitement builds in her stomach, her eyes gleaming curiously. "Mistletoe and whipped cream?" It doesn't sound as sexy as strawberries and she cringes trying to come up with another suggestion when his breath blows hotly against her ear.

"How about chocolate sauce and candy canes?" He sucks lightly on her neck, the demonstration rewarded with a shiver and he moves to the other side nipping her skin and lavishing it with the same treatment.

"I might need you to draw that for me."

She teases it with a content sigh, prompting him to draw back and let out a low chuckle. "It's a little complicated..." he insists expression lit with amusement, "how about we go back to mine and I show you?"

She grins broadly, her hands working down to tug the edge of his tie. "I'll get the candy canes."

.🅜Ⓔ🅡Ⓡ🅨 Ⓒ🅗Ⓡ🅘Ⓢ🅣ⓜ🅐ⓢ.

[darveyfics]

Could you please write a fic that deals somehow with the scene in the promo where Donna asks Harvey "Do you want to come in?"

‘Dreams’

*** @darveyfics, Guys feel free to do your own version. I think we all know what kind of fic imma write… ;-)***

… 

He shrugs off the cold rush shiver down his spine, as his right hand knocks against her door, his heart thudding with an impatience that his feet can barely stand up against as the other hand cradles that folded piece of paper, willing himself with every stretched second against the potent urge to crush it in his hand. 

But he’s ready, still, and his hunch was on point, he thinks to himself, as the door swings open, and she stands neatly behind it.

“After all this time, I’d have expected you to come to me, at the very least and tell me to my face. Not leave me a god damn letter on my desk like a parting gift…” He spits, thrusting her letter back into her hand like it burns to the touch.

She draws a breath. “I guess you read it, then?” She offers limply, piecing together his presence at such a late hour. It lights his senses on fire like she’s been holding a torch, waiting for him.  “Do you wanna come in?” He watches her say out of the corner of his eye,  as she points minutely to the door in a very on-Donna like gesture. 

He turns back to her, his senses catching on her tone, matched only by the way his right foot seems to fill with a led weight to fix him to the spot. There is a jarring hopefulness in her voice that he can’t understand.

Did she use this like a lure? Was it all some kind of game? Had he really misjudged her that much?

“I thought you’d said everything there was say?” He replies harshly, referring to her written word, swinging his shoulder just to give him enough the momentum to suggest walking away again. 

“Harvey….we can’t do this anymore.” She tells him. 

He feels a heavy lump in his throat, swallowing against the glassy look in her notably paler hazel eyes. So many words. So much said. So few agreements on the status quo. 

“Donna…you were the one who started this.” He reminds her. He waits a moment, the emotions clearly flitting about her face like mismatched colours, waiting for her to take a shot. 

She smiles bitterly to herself, rolling her eyes tiredly, her arms folding across her body. “Harvey…if you really think that. Then…we really are done here.” 

The words could be nothing, a mere frost on a warm car, or fog in the wilderness. But the look in her eyes is something else entirely. Something raw. Something unyielding. Something final. Something that scratches at his soul.

“That’s really how you wanna leave this?” He gestures between them, feeling her unpacified response.”

He waits for the tirade of words. She’s always been so good at words, so now should be no different. 

“I…I can’t, Harvey.” She sighs, “I’m, I’m sorry..” She stutters, her hands reaching as the door shuts abruptly in his face, the sound, clip and all at once so low, echoing around him an into the hall.

He could have stopped it. He doesn’t. 

~She wanted you to fight~

Some things never change…

And like that, 

Donna Paulsen is stripped cleanly from his world, like a worn bandaid. 

He turns in one fluid motion, his legs automatic in forcing him towards the stairwell. He only acknowledges the slight shake, the unsteadiness in his right hand, when it clenches at the railing, stiffly supporting the sinking feeling in his legs as he descends, laboured with every footstep towards the heavy glass door at the bottom of the stairwell. 

He stalks out onto the sidewalk, his conscious mind floating now, disconnected from his body like a fallen cloud below the peak of a mountain as he approaches the curb, his hand raising up numbly to flag down the nearest cab. He couldn’t feel the evening chill if it bit him on the ass, for the way he’s holding his breath, his heartbeat growing louder and louder and louder in his ears with every second that he must wait for a ride out of this mess. 

Why did he come here?

For what?

He blinks, meeting canary yellow, as he slides into the back of a beat up yellow cab, slamming the door behind him and lean back onto the worn leather, his hands flattening out to brace more than just the threat of motion, the heavy thrumming in his chest pulling his attention away from the world around him. 

“Sir? Where to Sir?” He hears finally, his bloodshot eyes drawing to the young man in the front of the cab. “Hello?” The man presses, causing him to open his mouth, forcing his brain to engage.

“Uh….Central Park…West.” He mumbles, wincing at the contradiction of sound in his ears, the cloudy underwater feeling against the harsh grain of his own voice dragging in his throat. 

As the car moves, so does his stomach, churning with bile to meet near his windpipe, the lash forcing all the air out of his lungs; the thud of his heart beating louder and louder and louder. He squeezes his eyes shut, willing a thread of control to knit himself back together, but the pressure inside him is so deep, do dredged in conflicting emotion, that he lurches heavily, his left hand slashing to plant, palm down onto the already smudged glass of the window. 

“Sir, if you’re gonna throw up-”

“Stop.” He chokes the words, as the cab jerks, pulling over, his hands fumbling with the silver latch in a panic, to pull it with snatch, pushing the door open with a distempered grace, his polish black shoes hitting the muddy tarmac at once, as he bends over, eyes watery and bulging only to gag, that bile and acid taste filling his mouth. 

In seconds the entire scenario is purged, as he spits, grimacing at the sandwich on rye pooling towards his shoes, his currently thrown state of mind aching against the front of his brain, as he grips the still open car door, folding back inside the cab with a sense of internalised embarrassment. 

“If you’re drunk I can’t take you.” The cab driver warns. 

“I’m not drunk.” He protests weakly.

“I reserve the right, Sir, to refuse.” The man presses.

“It’s ugh…a panic attack,” He barks, his jaw setting as he glances at the rear view mirror to witness the reaction to his outburst. “Please….just drive me home. I’ll pay double.” He half-pleads, the interchange a strangely welcome slice of a moment out of the ache in his head and he unease of his pulse. 

After a moment, the car begins to move, pulling back into the slowly streaking amber and reds of a calm New York night. 

… 

He falls into his apartment in a blur, immediately dousing his throat and stomach with Macallan just to numb himself out of this one day above days. 

Hours later, stumbling as if trying to free-fall, he eventually collapses onto bed drunk and disconnected from the world, his voicemail filling with unwelcome calls, and all of his usual mental acuity drenched dick deep in liquor. 

Harvey Specter had fought against the day, 

But forgotten, 

About his dreams. 

He dreams about Donna Paulsen, 

Until the sun comes up and reminds him of her.

Light, 

Against the ensuing dark in his mind. 

… … 

Guys for anyone who’s interested, I had some questions for myself regarding this promo scene and spoilers we’ve seen on twitter, posted at - @redwineonavanillaskye

[darveymficprompts]

Donna & Harvey getting carried away in the pool of a hotel on their first business trip as a couple.

Donna and Harvey go skinny dipping.

 “Immersed”

 “How was your flight?”  

“It was good.” Harvey smiles, glancing over at the redhead, his redhead, currently checking them in at the front desk of the hotel they’d just arrived at.

“I’ll bet.” Jessica teases from the other end of the line.

Harvey and Donna had flown in to Chicago to help Jessica as she prepared to enter the world of Chicago politics; it had been a last-minute decision, Jessica had been surprised by an impromptu encounter with the Mayor of Chicago, who had invited her to a meeting the following day with numerous Chicago political figures, a meeting Jessica had asked Harvey to accompany her to.

“I’m choosing to believe you’re referring to service in first class.” Harvey smirks.

“You do that.” Jessica teases.

“Donna said she sent you through the press release you asked for?”

“Yeah, tell her thank you, Jeff is going to send it out tomorrow.”

“What time is the meeting tomorrow?” He asks.

“Ten,” Jessica confirms, “You know you could have just stayed with us, Harvey.”

“I know, and thank you, I just wanted…” He attempts to explain.

“You wanted to be alone,” His old mentor finishes for him, “I get it. How are things with you two now that you’ve finally opened your eyes?”

“Great.” Harvey smiles, glancing back towards his girl, “everything’s great.”

‘Got the key’ Donna mouths, walking through the lobby towards him with the room key in her hand.

“Good, I’ll see you tomorrow, Harvey. I’ve arranged for a car to pick you both up at 9.30.”

“We’ll see you then.” He says, hanging up the phone.

“Ready?” Donna smiles “…I really shouldn’t have been surprised that you booked the most expensive suite in hotel, should I?”

“Thought you were supposed to know everything?” He teases, leaning down to place a soft kiss against her lips.

- - -

It had taken them a while, but they were finally in a good place, a wonderful place, they were finally together and incredibly happy. What had only been three months ago felt like it had taken place a lifetime ago.

After Donna had kissed him, to say thing went from confused to chaos would be an understatement. In true Specter form, void of any emotional maturity and without Donna’s guidance, Harvey had not handled the situation well at all. Even after he had broken up with Paula, weeks of anger, confusion and guilt laced with harsh words, constant fighting and bitterness had culminated in what Harvey could only describe as one of the worst moments in his life; Donna left him.

 ** FLASHBACK**

 Returning to the firm after a meeting with Louis, Harvey was greeted by a solemn Mike standing in the doorway of his office.

“Harvey, you need to see this.”

“Not now, Mike.”

“Now, Harvey. Trust me. I found this on Donna’s Desk, I thought it was something she’d been working on for me”

“What is it?” Harvey asks, ignoring the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, his brows knitting together in confusion.”

“You need to fix this, Harvey.” Mike says seriously, handing the piece of paper to the older lawyer.

Harvey identifies it immediately; a resignation letter, with a hand written not attached to it, he swallows thickly as he begins to read.

 Dear Harvey and Louis,

Please be advised of my intention to resign as Chief Operations Officer of Specter Litt, effective immediately.

I greatly appreciate the opportunity and privilege that has been extended to me during my time at the firm and while this decision is an extremely difficult one, it is necessary.

I am grateful for your friendship, support and guidance and the tireless efforts of all staff within the offices of Specter Litt. I wish you all well in your future endeavours.

Sincerely,

Donna Paulsen

 Harvey could feel the familiar tightening of his chest that accompanied a panic attack, he willed himself to continue reading the note, praying that this was just a dream.

 Harvey,

I just can’t do this anymore; I have decided to leave New York, I’ve been offered an opportunity elsewhere and have decided to take it. I just need a fresh start.

I want you to know that I am not sorry I kissed you, I’m in love with you and if I’m being completely honest, I would do it again. But, I am sorry that our relationship couldn’t withstand it and that because of my actions, trying to figure out my own feelings, you now look at me with a look that was once only reserved for your Mother, a mixture of pain, betrayal and disgust.

I know I’ve let you down, but I never meant to hurt you, please know that.

Perhaps in my absence it will be easier for you to rekindle things with Dr Agard.

Be happy, Harvey, that’s all I want for you.

Donna.

 He closes his eyes, dizziness taking over as he struggles to breathe. As he glances back down at the paper, he notices his hands are shaking.

This can’t be happening.

“She’s on her way to JFK”  

He looks up to find Rachel standing inside the doorway.

“…She’s moving to Seattle.” She offers.

“She …She won’t want to see me,” Harvey argues weakly, “I’ve fucked everything up, Rachel.”

“Yeah, you have, Harvey…” Rachel says, “…and maybe you don’t deserve the opportunity to fix it, but she does! Donna deserves it and you are the only person who is going to be able to change this.”

Before Rachel can say another word, Harvey finds himself racing towards the elevator, still clutching the papers in his hand. The elevator doors open to the lobby and he runs towards the exit, looking out towards the street. The cool night air hits him as he steps outside, flagging down the first cab he sees, “JFK” He tells the driver as he climbs in.

He has to find her.

- - -

“American Airlines flight AA45 to Seattle now boarding.”

Donna had been sitting near the boarding gate, waiting for her flight to be announced, as she hears her flight number she stands and collects her purse, coat and carry on bag, turning around to head towards the desk she takes a step forward before she spots him, jogging towards her. Harvey.

“Donna”

“Harvey what are you doing here? How did you…”

“Rachel.” He explains.

“Harvey, I…”

“Don’t go!” He begs, “Please. Donna you can’t leave.”

She scoffs, “We haven’t spoken in weeks unless its been you yelling at me about something!”

“I know, I’m sorry, I am. I just…”

“In the fourteen years I’ve known you, Harvey, I never thought we’d end up here; you hating me!”

“Donna…” He begins, taken aback by her statement.

“No, Harvey,” She interjects, “I’m not doing this! I’ve said what I needed to, and I have a flight to catch, so…” she says, brushing past him.

He grabs her arm, halting her movements, “I don’t hate you…” He says softly.

“Really? Because last I checked, the way you have treated me in the last two weeks is exactly the way you would act towards someone you couldn’t stand!”

“You really don’t get it do you?” He says, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Oh, I get it, Harvey, you’ve made yourself crystal clear. I’m selfish for doing what I did and putting you in that position, selfish for putting myself first and making you cheat. Believe me, I get it!”

“I was mad at myself!” Harvey says, exasperated. “I wasn’t mad because I didn’t want you, Donna, I was mad because I did!” He explains.

“…Ever since my Mom cheated on my Dad, I have always known I have zero tolerance of infidelity. Then, you ambush me with a kiss…”

“I told you, I had…” She tries to defend.

“Just spoken with Louis, I know. Let me finish, please.” He begs.

Donna nods.

“Then you kissed me in your office and for the first time ever, infidelity didn’t bother me. My head was spinning, and I was surprised, Donna, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to have you right there on your desk.”

“Harvey…”

“I didn’t know how to deal with it. I took it out on you and I’m sorry.”

Donna can feel the tears building, “Why didn’t you just talk to me?” She asks.

“You know I’m no good with talking about feelings.” He offers weakly. “… But I do love you, Donna.”

“Harvey…”

“Final boarding call for American Airlines flight AA45 to Seattle.”

Harvey can feel his heart racing, uneasy that she hasn’t agreed to stay yet, he quickly pulls her towards him, pressing his lips against hers, kissing her gently as he cups her face.

“Please don’t go” He begs. “…I love you.”

“Ma’am, I’m sorry to interrupt, are you boarding?” The flight attendant asks.

Donna sighs, pressing her cheek harder against Harvey’s hand.

“I’m sorry.”

“Donna…” He whispers, frowning slightly.

“It’s too late,” She whispers, tear filled eyes looking up at him, “I love you, but you can’t …We can’t …I have to go.”

“Donna.”

“Goodbye, Harvey.”

- - -

Harvey sighs, slumping back in his chair, finishing the last of the Macallan in his glass, fighting against the burn in his throat. Internally debating whether to head back to the firm or to just drink himself in to a stupor, attempting to forget the last few hours.

The latter wins.

She left, she actually left him. He’s not quite sure he believes it yet.

He ignores the buzz of his cell phone, probably just Mike checking on him again, he reasons. As he approaches his bar for a refill, noticing he’s used the last of it,

“Fuck” He mumbles to himself.

He reaches for his keys as he resolves to head to the liquor store, the walk will probably do him some good, give him a chance to clear his head.

Grabbing his coat, he opens the door, surprised by the figure standing on the other side of it.

“Donna.” He breathes, internally asking himself if he’s seeing things now.

“Say it again.” She demands, eyes still laced with tears.

He doesn’t need her to clarify what she means.

“I love you.” He says adamantly, certain he’s never spoken a truer word in his life.

Before he can repeat the words again in an effort to make her believe them, her lips crash against his as she kisses him passionately. He pulls her in closely, holding her body against his own as he kisses her back with everything he has.

There is not a chance in hell that he’ll ever let her go again.

 ** END OF FLASHBACK **

- - -

“This place is gorgeous.” Donna says, unpacking their suitcase.

“You’re gorgeous!” He says, his arms encircling her waist as he hugs her from behind, kissing her neck.  

“Smooth, Specter.” She chuckles. “How you are New York’s best closer I have no idea!”

“Oh, I think you do.” He smirks, sitting down on the bed beside her.

“THAT, better not have anything to do with it, mister.” She says, narrowing her eyes at him slightly.

“Don’t worry, THAT is reserved solely for my lady, the others just succumb to my good looks and charm.” He grins.

“…And ego” She adds, teasing him further.

“You love me.”

“I do.” She agrees, leaning down for a quick kiss.

It had surprised both of them how natural the transition from friends, well, their version of friends, to lovers had been. PDA, stolen kisses, declarations of love, it all just felt so right. With fourteen years to make up for, they had practically locked themselves away the entire first week they were together, nothing but sex and each other, with occasional breaks for food and sleep.

“Oh, thank God, I’m starving!” Donna praises as she hears a knock on the door followed by a voice saying it was the room service they’d ordered. “Honey, can you get it? I just want to hang these last few things up,” She asks.

Harvey opens the door and accepts the food, tipping the man generously.

“Hey, where’s the pool in this place?” He queries.

“First floor, last door on the left.” The hotel worker explains, “But unfortunately it’s closed now, Sir”

“What would I have to do to open it for us a little later?” Harvey asks, offering the man $100.

“I’m sure we can arrange something.”

“Oh, and this is to make sure we’re left alone.” Harvey instructs, offering him another $100.

“Yes, Sir. I’ll make sure that happens.”

- - -

“Harvey, where are you taking me?” Donna asks, holding Harvey’s hand as his other one covers her eyes.

“You said to get in our robes because we are getting massages, the spa is in the other direction!”

“I’m covering your eyes” He laughs “How do you know what direction we’re going?”

“I’m Donna” She smirks.

He can’t help but roll his eyes at her sassiness.

“Ok, we’re here he says, uncovering her eyes to reveal the swimming pool in front of them, the room darkened except for the glow illuminating from the underwater pool lights.

“We’re not getting massages, are we?” She asks, kinking an eyebrow at him, still holding his hand.

“Nope, not tonight anyway,” He smirks “Although, if you’re lucky I might give you one later.”

She smirks at his sexual innuendo.

“I thought it might be nice to have a swim.” He says, pointing towards the water.

“I don’t have my suit.” She shrugs.

“Hmm” He pretends to ponder, “Neither do I.” He says, dropping his robe to the floor to reveal his naked form.

She automatically bites her lip as her eyes take in his body.

Damn she has a sexy man!

“Harvey!” She grins, “what if someone comes?”

“You mean besides you?” He teases, earning himself a big smile from her. “So?” He shrugs, “Let them watch” He grins.

She subconsciously bites her lip again as she tries to decide whether to join him.

As if she isn’t going to she thinks to herself as she lets her robe fall to the floor next to his.

She smiles at him, shrugging her shoulders as she moves towards the pool, descending the steps in to the water with a giggle, Harvey close behind her.

Donna wades deeper in to the pool, turning around to face Harvey, her breasts still exposed as the water touches just underneath them. He moves to meet her, clutching her face in his hands as he kisses her passionately.

Harvey moves his hand down her neck, towards her breast, squeezing it firmly as her fingers dig deeper in to his back. His hand travels from her breast, down her toned stomach to her thigh as he assists her when she instinctively wraps her legs around his waist; a soft moan escapes her as she feels his deliciously hard length rub against her.

Donna pushes against his torso, freeing herself from his grasp as she swims away underwater; Harvey naturally following her. When she reaches the end of the pool she turns around, swimming back towards him, his hands automatically reaching out for her as she swims back in to his embrace; gripping his head as he pulls her towards him for another kiss.

They slowly move to the surface, searching for oxygen, water cascading over the muscles of his back as he reaches the surface first, pulling her up with him, only breaking their kiss to allow oxygen in to their lungs. His hands move to her waist, lifting her slightly as she wraps her legs around him once more, allowing him to slide inside her this time.

The feeling of him stretching her elicits a whimper from her, as he begins to move inside her slowly; her grip on him tightening with each languid thrust.

“So fucking tight” He moans against her mouth as she steadies herself by grabbing his shoulder, his hands move from her face to her torso as she wraps her arms around him tightly.

“God, you feel so good” She murmurs against his lips before her tongue begs for entrance to his mouth. Her hand grips his hair tightly, appreciating every thrust inside her as she relishes each touch.

Harvey’s tongue moves against her own before breaking away, instructing her to take a breath before pulling her underneath the water with him, his hand finding her clit to rub firmly.

Donna has never felt anything like it, briefly removing something as vital as breathing somehow enhances every other sense she has, overwhelmed by complete euphoria has Harvey continues his actions.

“Oh fuck” He breathes as they come up for air.

“Yes! Fuck, Harvey,” She moans, gripping his back tightly, “Come for me” She demands against his mouth, their hot breaths mingling. “I want you to come for me.”

Donna’s back hits the side of the pool as Harvey pins her against the wall, one hand gripping her waist tightly while the other rubs her clit as he continues to fuck her as hard as he can.

The sound of Donna’s moans echo through the room as she hits her peak, her orgasm ripping through her as Harvey begins to unravel himself, his moans overtaking her own as he manages a few more thrusts before emptying inside her.

“Oh, my Gooood” she drawls out, struggling to steady her breathing as he attempts to regulate his own. “That was amazing.” She moans, utterly satisfied.

“I love you baby” He says softly, pressing soft kisses against her lips.

“I love you too”

As they regain their composure, Harvey pulls out of her gently.

“How do I let you talk me in to these things?” She giggles.

“Told you babe, good looks and charm” He winks, offering her his trademark grin.

“I am definitely in trouble then” She whispers, pressing her lips against his softly.

[sonia7atm]

We already know we are being tricked but I can't stop imagining strawberry blond babies

[sharpeshelen]

Hi! I'm watching Suits for the first time and I was wondering if you could recommend me any good Darvey fanfic? Thanks!

Hey :) I’ve read so many and honestly I don’t remember their names haha, but I’m gonna give you some author/blog names hoping that it’ll help: - on tumblr: darveyfics is a blog dedicated to darvey fics and they’re always amazing + Aliyyah (paulsenspecter) fics are really great too!- on fanfiction.net: Atheniandream, AlternateShadesofBlue, AnonymousDH, donnapspecter, donnaspecter, graystephen93 are the first coming to my mind but there are other great fic writers on there too (+ on AO3)

[anne-wentworth]

Hey. So. Darvey prompt? They met in high school, were friends, had plans to go about life and be a pro athlete and a Broadway star. Write that moment when they both have to give up on their dream? Idk I liked the idea. Write it if you like it too? lol

I posted this on @darveyfics and my ao3. Really hope you like it! 

[darveyfics]

Donna finds Harvey whilst he’s having a panic attack in his office that came out of now where. Btw, love your stories!

Note: Sorry it’s not Halloweeny! I’ll endeavour to write a prompt tomorrow for Halloween. 

Breathless 1/1

He held the letter in his hands, the crisp paper like an iron weight between his fingers; that raw need to crumple it’s existence bending under the feeling of he vice like grip against his chest that stilling the impulse to a dull whim. His eyes bulged, the low light of the poignantly empty office swaying into a blur of orange and white tones around him, his heart beating fast in bass notes inside the back of his skull, pressing a sharp tightness onto the underside of his eyes, as he blinked slowly against the feint gaussian blur of sheer, unwashed panic.

Time slowed down into half moments, the words on paper freezing in his mind’s eye…

~I need to be loved back, Harvey.

I need more.

And if you’re not that person for me, then I need to go searching for that person.

Jessica has given me an ‘out’.

I’m going to take it.

And I need you to let me go.

But I will always love you.

Donna.~

…

I can’t do well when I think you’re gonna leave me

But I know I try

Are you gonna leave me now

Can’t you be believing now

I know everything about you

You know everything about me

Know everything about us

‘We are the People’ Cover by Broods.

…

There was nothing worse than making an exit, a huge life altering choice, only to have forgotten something. Have left something behind in the moment.

Like a cruel joke, it offset her direction, pulling her back against the fury of their situation. At least the stumble had helped rope in the pain, the slight panic as she had slid into the cab with a finality, only to have it be turned back around with a covered frustration and a tempered annoyance.

She always seemed to lack the impact of large open-mouthed gestures. For a woman with a flare for the dramatic it was a consistent let down. Another thing she needed to change now.

She kept her eyes straight, her bag close to her as she rode the elevator, a silent curse for a second exit on her horizon. Twice the effort. Twice the pain. Only half the takeaway…

She had been careful, earlier, to wait until the building was almost empty. Until people - the important ones, at least - had gone home for the day, before she had packed her things into a familiar brown cardboard box, and said goodbye to her short lived existence as COO of soon-to-be Specter Litt.

An era that she wouldn’t be a part of.

A marked divide in time, like a fork in the road.

She had remembered her actions, earlier that day,

When she had paused at the doorway of that office. His office. A place where she hadn’t sat outside for very long, before change had come. Where the layout was slightly different than all the ones before. Where fewer memories had matured into points of reference for her life and fewer emotions had been spilled. She had walked up, tight chested and eyes brimming but not overflowing and carefully placed the crisp white letter onto the transparent glass desk.

It had been a moment of bittersweet ending. A poignant serenade to the ‘old’ her. The old Donna.

A serenade that had paused unnaturally the moment she had returned, a flash of red against a backdrop of silver and tope.

All because of a keepsake, locked away in a drawer that she’d forgotten about…

She cursed herself, the building seeming abandoned now, save for the fluorescent lighting, that cast a staleness into the air as she rounded the corner at a pace.

She glided towards the doorway to her office, her feet halted by a thud in her chest that her eyes carried the weight of.

Harvey.

He was hunched over her desk, the white paper held in his hands as his chest jerked with a heaviness at the slight hiss of constriction. She noticed his collar, pulled out jaggedly to his left shoulder, the knot of his black silk tie painfully strained and the top button of his shirt undone with what had looked like an unnaturally unsteady hand.

Harvey’s eyes flicked to hers then, her own widening in shock. His eyes were bloodshot and panic ridden, fear riddled even in the darkness that his eyes reflected.

“Harvey?” She managed, shock overriding the last few hours of her life, circumventing them into a blanket concern for the man stood in front of her, a man that she had folded away into the recent past, only to be confronted with him once again.

She took a step towards him. “Are you…” She paused, watching his mouth move.

“Just’,” He managed, barely, his voice hoarse and his mouth opening and closing in a strained grimace against his panting.

“Harvey?” She repeated, her face bending in fear of the stark image in front of her.

“Jus’-go.” He managed, his voice airly and unlike himself as his eyes flashed at her with the same old message. A warning. A red letter against her name, like all those other times.

She frowned, the pieces falling together like unbroken glass.

She, Donna Paulsen, was witnessing he, Harvey Specter, having a panic attack.

For the first time, since she had left him that very first time…

The famous state that had cracked the smooth veneer of one of New York’s most powerful and self-controlled men.

She was witnessing, for the very first time, the way that she could utterly break him.

“Harvey, it’s okay, you’re…”

He stumbled backwards then, straightening slightly against the window ledge, as his throat strangled a breath, looking about the room for a second in a way that had her searching too.

What was he looking for?

Air?

Water?

A distraction?

A way out?

She let her bag slide off of her shoulder, hearing the thud of it’s blunt landing but paying no mind to the action, as she skirted around the edge of her desk, watching the way it panicked him further, his breaths coming in steep waves, crashing against the rise and fall of his ribs. He looked away from her, his eyes falling onto the floor below until they closed with a press, his jaw setting as his hand dropped the letter, the swish of paper sifting through the air and landing on the carpet, as he clenched his now empty hand into a fist, pulling it tightly to his side.

Donna felt her own breath stutter, panic at how this incredibly strong and stubborn man, that she had just exiled from her life, that had she had left behind in order to save herself, was suddenly and completely torn in to pieces in front of her. Scaled down by a few words on a page. By her words, no less.

“Hey,” She bit, her voice commanding and solid. She neared him, every step tentative, halted almost from her usual decisiveness, by the way his eyes bored into hers, his shoulders hunching at the pressure still coursing through him. He bowed his head, his hand reaching out for the window ledge with a ham fisted grasp.

Her own hand slid against his forearm, causing him to flinch, the heat radiating off of him as his eyes collided with hers with a lash.

“Don-na,” He mumbled, all the makings of a protest and a danger ridden warning in his darkened tone.

Unlucky for him, she was practised in his company, and despite the ripe hurt inside her still, she didn’t fear him. If anything, she felt strong and sure, as her hand slid up his arm and against his clammy face, the other hand following the impulse.

He straightened, becoming tense against her soft hands, but not pushing her away as he struggled for breath and words and clarity.

She smoothed her hands against his cheeks, against the five o’clock shadow and moistness, brushing up and down the panels of his cheekbones, as his brow furrowed against his gained attention of her.

“Harvey…close your eyes,” Donna commanded, her voice silky and slightly motherly. His eyelids dropped in an instant. She frowned in response, his compliance knocking her train of thought. “Concentrate on my voice and just…breathe, okay?” She asked softly, her face bending to judge his response. She felt his head drop slightly in reply, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down as his face twitched in her hands. “Harvey, I need you to tell me that you hear me.” She asked then. He mumbled something incoherent, his head getting heavier in her hands with every passing second, as she braced his weight, one hand jumping to his shoulder, grasping his arm through his suit jacket. She felt his footing wobble underneath him then, almost relying on her strength to be his aid. She scooped a hand under him, just in time to take his weight as his arms grasped roughly at the back of her jacket, pulling down on the thick fabric as his head dropped down to her shoulder like a deadweight, stilling for a moment as she felt his heartbeat, the thudding of his muscle leaping clean out of his chest and landing against hers.

She gasped then, immersed by the feeling of panic radiating off of him, his form frozen stiff against her, as her arms wrapped around his back, her chin lifting to fit over his suited shoulder and bringing them flush together. She was momentarily speechless. Too scared to wound him further and too hurt to know of a compromise to fit the moment.

She was an island. His island. And yet, she belonged to no one.

She felt alone at sea, surrounded by something, someone, that had no place of happiness for her, and yet was drowning in front of her.

His grip on her tightened, contradicting the way that his breath began to calm slightly, soothed by the possibilities that her words evoked.

I can’t do well when I think you’re gonna leave me

But I know I try

Are you gonna leave me now

Can’t you be believing now

“I love you-d-don’t…leave me,” He managed, his voice sounding almost too heavy for the changing sentiment.

She felt her eyes fill at his words, the sting of tears in each corner, her breath hitching as one of her hands slid into his short hair, cupping the back of his head.

“It’s not enough, Harvey” She confessed, her face crumpling with a grimace that pulled the emotion clean out of her like a ripped bandaid. She coughed tears that felt like dirty ice, a cry forcing it’s way out like a wounded animal, in feeling his own heart begin to race again. “I deserve more.” She rushed the words. “Give me more…and I’ll stay for as long as you want me.” She promised him, the words roped in the ugliest of truths as her breath hitched.

His head lifted then, his cheek falling upon hers, as his hold of her tightened, his jaw tilting as his lips grazed her earlobe.

This was the moment. Two steps forward, or four steps back.

“I…need…you.” He managed, his voice still seeming tight in his chest. “I can’t lose you…”

“I need you to want me as more than this, Harvey.” She countered, frowning. “But if you don’t, then….you need to let me go.”

He pulled away from her, his hands sliding in between them, suddenly on her face and directing her gaze to his.

He looked terrified. Overcome. At odds with her and himself and the world around them. As if the world was spinning around them at a million miles a second, and threatening to throw him directly into the stars.

“Everything?” He asked her, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks as a weak distraction against the concept of such a thing.

“Everything.” She confirmed, her eyes wide and tear filled as she struggled with the feeling of her own breath catching in her throat, releasing it twice as quickly when his lips pressed against hers.

She felt his hands tighten around her face, his lips lingering against hers in a way that held a pause of thought.

She broke apart from him, feeling the doubt start to seep in. “Harv-”

His lips captured hers then, and he straightened as he tilted her head at an angle more fitting to his advantage. His right hand slid to the back of her head, fingers threading through her auburn locks as his lips parted, his advance on her growing hungrier as his bottom lip nudged her mouth to open a fraction. She moaned quietly into his mouth, her hands sliding to the middle of his chest, his heartbeat beginning to race with a polarised intention, different from before, as she felt the tingle of his tongue brushing tentatively against hers. His lips were salty, with a tinge of acid as she opened her mouth enough for him to kiss her fully, sucking at her tongue in a way that made her breasts twitch and her mind go blank as she reciprocated. He seemed to feel her relax instinctively against him, his left hand dropping inside her coat and grasping at her waist as his lips slid apart from hers, allowing him to pull away just enough to leave them panting, their cheeks tear stained and pressing together.

“I love you,” He whispered.

She sighed, the impulse flooding her brain, as all tension drained steadily out of her.

Like the last piece of their puzzle.

His last hurdle.

Her last doubt.

“Love me how, Harvey?” She replied, waiting for the answer as if her life truly depended on it.

He leant back, taking in his first calm breath since she’d returned, his eyes connecting with hers.

“…in every way…” He told her, before he pulled her back against him.

~

[darveymficprompts]

Hey guys, we've created a new blog to feature rated M darvey fics. ashadesofblue decided to create this blog and I, katicmagic, along with redwineonavanillaskye, thatswhatmyboobsarelike, and 8-bit-fantasy will be a  part of this blog’s writing team. This will be separate from darveyfics.

Feel free to send in your prompts via ask and/or submit picture ideas. Please note that these are only for rated m prompts. Also, picture ideas are welcome, but nothing too graphic. 

We’ll be accepting prompts now until we receive around 15, and then we’ll close them again, so we don’t get overwhelmed with so many stories. We’re looking forward to be writing more darvey fics for this fandom :) -ali

[darveyfics]

Drunk donna and sober Harvey in a relationship.

The Drunkard 1/1

.

It ended…with one phone call,

And a groan, emitting loudly from the other end.

Now, 

Contrary, to the rules set at the very beginning of the night,

This ended up to be the outcome….

.

“Yours is in the there,” Mike Ross remarks tiredly, passing past Harvey Specter with his hands full of a very tiny and very unconscious woman. One Rachel Zane. The Best Friend. The Wife. The Associate.

“Thanks,” Harvey groans at his friend, stalking towards the bar. He notices the all too familiar redhead draped over the dirty bar counter, shaking his head at the sight of her, past the worst for wear portion of the night.

“Okay, come on you,” He encourages, picking up her phone - relieved that she hasn’t bought a purse - as he slides her phone and credit card into his back pocket, his arm wrapping around her willowy frame as she awakens slightly, looking about herself and her surroundings before more importantly noticing his appearance.

“Whaaaa…Harvey…?” She mumbles, hitting him with a ton of whiskey breath. He frowns. She told him that she only ever drank the stuff because of him, and yet here she is completely covered in it.

“Where’zzz Rach…?” She asks then, her expression a muddle of unfocused worry as she looks to him.

“Your Partner in Crime…had to be carried out by her husband.” He states, examining her, his hand pushing her slightly sticky hair away from her flushed face. “My god, Donna, how much did you drink tonight?” He queries, a frown setting into his face as he slides her off of the barstool by the waist.

“Uh…nexssst question,” She remarks boldly, clambering about in his arms as he adjusts around her. She almost stumbles, as he grabs a hip, his other hand scooping around her back to still her against his solid and extremely sober frame. He hadn’t even had a drink tonight, if you could believe that…

“Seriously?” He offers, shaking his head as she regards him.

“We may…” She pauses, hiccup’ing slightly, as her head wobbles on her less than graceful shoulders. “have gone a b-bit over-b-board.” She reasons, allowing him to guide her forwards on her baby-deer-like footing.

“So much for wanting me to stay out of your ‘girls night’ tonight,” He notes, helping her to the exit.

And to think, she’d given him so much shit about her freedom and independance before leaving. 

Earlier that night…

“Look, I get it,” He says. “You want to go out with your best friend and paint the town red…I understand…but we still live in two different places and we’ve barely spent the night together for over two weeks, because works been such a mess…I just…” He sighs heavily, pausing at her slightly pitying look. 

“Harvey…firstly…this has only been ‘a thing’ for four months, and we promised we would take time and get to know one another, properly, as a couple. You pick me up for work most mornings, or I leave with you, so it’s not like we don’t see one another,” She reasons.

“Okay…true, but you’re not my Assistant anymore.” He notes. “It’s different at work, now.” He frowns. “You know that.”

“And yet, we share a wall, you have intercom to my office…for intents and purposes I, am still an extension of whatever temp I stick outside your door…all because you won’t have me replaced,” She argues.

“I told you…” He says, the words repeating for the fifth time since they got together. “It feels too personal to have someone else do all the things that you use to do,” He says staunchly, his arms folding at his sides.

“And, as much as I understand some of that - although, an extremely unhealthy perspective, to think that what I’ve been doing for you this entire time was more than just very good secretarial work,” She notes, slightly blaze.

“You really believe that?” He smirks then, tilting his head at her to flash those chocolate puppy dog eyes, marking the sheer backbone of his point.

They both know that they’ve flouted the roles of employee and Boss to the extent that landed them in this very personal mess in the first place…

They‘ve always been more than they should have been.

She snorts then, ignoring his rather valid insinuation.

“My point is, that we,” She gestures between them. ”Are. Together. Most of the time.” She says, a harshness falling into her tone.

“Is this you trying to break up with me?” He asks, gesturing between them. “Because if so, the hour and forty five you have to get ready just isn’t enough time for us to have breakup and makeup sex,” He remarks, as he pretends to look at his watch, his lips twitching at the mere thought of such a thing.

He’s still getting to grips with that fact that she is the most important thing in his life, and now that the truth is out, and ghosts have been laid to rest, Harvey Specter has been revealed to the world, rather publicly as a very committed Monogamist. He may have been referred to as a ‘Donnaist’ at some point, by Mike, much to his untempered annoyance. But it is, still, mostly true.

She rolls her eyes, refusing to indulge him, before changing tact.

“Harvey…I’m just looking for one night to spend with my friend,” She tells him, closing in on him with every step and every carefully planted word. “Without my glorious boyfriend being involved.” She reasons, her hands sliding around his shoulders as she looks up at him with a purposeful innocence.

It takes three seconds of the look in her eyes to catch at him. She’s become very good at maturing the talent of silent suggestion since they broke down all those walls.

“Fine.“ He breathes, his hands wrapping around her. “But tomorrow night…is date night.” He states, a smile growing on his face.

She frowns instantly. “You know, it still freaks me out at how easy it is for you to say things like that,” She remarks, giving him a look.

“And there’s us thinking that I’d be the commitment phobe.” He jokes, pressing her against him in the vain hope that she’ll 180 her decision and spend the night with him instead. It’s worked before, so there’s always half a chance…

But not tonight, it seems.

“You’re so…needy.” She regards, her tone bending in a playfulness.

She knows that she’s won the disagreement, based on his slightly defeated look, his sharp edges softening against her.

“When it comes to you, I’ve always been needy. And you’re my only ‘needy’ thing so…” He defends weakly, his tone tissue paper soft as their joined breath lingers in the small space between them.

“Does that mean, when I get home later, you’ll be sulking in bed,” She asks, her hands wrapping around his neck as she licks her lips. “Or, perfectly accommodating in bed?” She asks, her eyebrow arching comically.

He chuckles, instantly broken down by her charm. “That was one time…and you stood me up.” He reminds her.

“Fancy a shower?” She offers, ignoring the memory and pressing herself into him, keeping her lips an almost painful inch away from his.

“With you…always,” He says, his lips sliding against hers. He groans, regretting his lack of resistance on all matters, as his mind graces other ideas, his tongue pressing her lips apart as they blind step towards his bathroom.

Back to later that night…

Hailing a cab with a beautiful inebriated woman, isn’t the easiest of tasks.

“Why would you even need to get this drunk?” He asks her frustratingly, juggling her weight whilst attempting to flag down a cab. It’s too late to call Ray, and the perfect time to be standing out on the sidewalk for hours without the faintest hint of a ride.

They’re potentially screwed. Ironically, he’s not getting any, either…

“Mike w-wants a b-baby,” She mumbles into his shoulder.

“What?” He frowns, impressed at her ability to answer what was essentially a rhetorical question whilst having her eyes closed. He sighs in relief at the cab that stops for them, shaking her a little, his hand sliding around her cheek to encourage her awake, before opening the door.

“Rach ‘as to get p-preg…nant,” She says, her eyes flicking to his then, as he directs her to the cab. “So I got er’ drunk fuhh’ th’ last time,” She says, a disappointed sigh escaping her lips as she notices the yellow blur in front of her, her hand grabbing onto the open car door frame in a moment of lucidity. “N’more drinking buddy…” She says, pouting sadly.

“Well, at least you’re gonna be an Aunt. That’s something,” He offers, indulging her.

“Oh….yea,” She replies airily, her head bobbing up as he gently presses her head back down and under the frame of the door, before taking her hand and folding her neatly onto the back seat. He pushes her to lay towards the interior, folding her legs in the car before shutting the door and opening his own door on the other side, sliding onto the torn leather seat in time to catch her slumping towards him.

“Hey,” He calls to the cab driver, grabbing her in time before she face plants the cushion. “West Seventy Second Street, on the corner of Central Park West, thanks.” He reams off his address, watching the cab driver eye Donna suspiciously. He straightens in his seat, holding onto the redhead. “She’s the love of my life, pal, no need for the third degree.” He remarks, slightly harshly, suddenly overly conscious of the way it looks, a man in slacks and a sweater, with a barely conscious redhead in a cocktail dress in the back of the man’s cab.

“She throws up in here, it’s double,” The guys calls back, a surliness in his voice.

“If she throws up - which she won’t - I’ll have the whole thing cleaned and your lost wages covered,” He reams off, drawing his attention back to the beautiful woman half draped in his arms.

He’s thoroughly entertained at just how complex Donna Paulsen really is. She often asks for things she doesn’t want - more out of a lack of decision making than to taunt him - and she runs from many of the facets that make them a decidedly functional pair. He, on the other hand is actually more calm, more centred and less polarised, now that he feels like he has her. He’s started to understand just how much of his personal problems stemmed from keeping a woman that he was meant to be with at arms length, and how that, in turn, had made her wary of him in the past.

He notices the cab start to line the Park, lamp lit moss green flashing past them, until he points to the cab driver to stop on the corner, observing Donna with her mouth open and a very low purr of a snore coming out of her as she rests against his shoulder.  

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” He encourages, his hand sliding into her hair. “We’re home.” He tells her.

He shakes her slightly, watching her head flick up and look around, before frowning rather comically at him.

“This isn’t home,” She says, with perfectly awkward timing as the cabby glares at him once more.

“Donna, will you please allay this guy’s fears and tell him who I am,” He asks, smirking at her silliness.

She owes him…big time…

“Wuh?” She frowns, looking to him, her green seeming eyes red rimmed and glassier than usual.

“Who am I?” He asks her, gesturing slowly just to gain her attention.

“You’re…Harvey…” She frowns, the words coming out much clearer than her other ones.

He frowns. She’s not even able to help at this point, just based on her lack of mental clarity alone, but somehow he needs to prove himself as anything other than just another one of New York’s predators. “To you, genius, who am I to you?” He clarifies.

“My…oth’a half f’ course…” She groans, rolling her eyes as he struggles with her fidgeting. 

Other half. He’ll take it, and he’ll like it. 

He looks to the cabby then, reaching out to hand him two fifties for his trouble. “See?” He remarks, boldly, before looking to Donna. “Come on, you.” He says, getting out of his side to walk to her car door, opening it as he sees her start to move towards him.

She slides her legs out of the cab, planting them on the sidewalk.

It’s then that he realises. “Fuck,” He says out loud, staring below her ankles. “Where are your shoes,” He says loudly, half to himself. “How did I not…” He mumbles, an afterthought, rubbing his face with a self-made annoyance.

He realises that when it comes to her, being in varying sorts of peril, he completely forgets the little things. And the big things, all things really, except for her.

She is his own personal liability, which for a Lawyer, is a very dangerous thing indeed…

“Oh,” She remarks, catching up with his statement as she looks to her feet, feeling him guide her forward.

“I’m sorry. I’ll get you some new ones,” He says, puffing out a breath and watching as she sways a little too far towards him.

“Ugghh…They were l’mited ed’tiion,” She whines with disappointment against his right shoulder.

He winces, holding in the pain at her chin hitting the top of the joint. “I’ll call the bar when we get upstairs.” He tells her, watching her feet as she tiptoes towards the lobby, the vision of her awkwardly inelegant footing beside his regular steps, breaking out a wide smirk onto his tired face.

“You really are something else,” He tells her, continuing to hold her.

“Sss’cold.” He hears her grumble, lifting her feet for longer periods of time.

“Okay, time for me to do the thing you hate,” He warns, a fatherly tone about his voice as he scoops her up in one quick motion, one hand under her legs, and the other bracing her back, as a stream of colourful sounds fall out of her, a shock at the sudden lack of footing.

“Whuh,” She mumbles, frowning in confusion, her nose crinkling.

“Put your arm around my neck,” He orders, feeling her fingers slide against his nape.

“Suh’ bossy,” She says, waking up slightly in his arms as her head slumps against his bad shoulder once more.

“Everything okay, Mr Specter?” Calls one of the security guards, looking up from their desk as he enters the building. 

“We’re fine, Henry…” He says. “Thanks.”

“Anything you need, just ask.” The man nods curtly.

“Will do. Goodnight.” Harvey smiles knowingly, before depositing the redhead into the already open elevator, pressing the button for his floor as the metal box begins to ascend.

The bright lights of the elevator seem to awaken the drowsy pile of more-than-girlfriend in his arms, as she slides her head from the wall to his chest, grasping at his sweater and sighing against him.

“You okay there?” He asks, rubbing her back as she folds neatly under his chin.

“Mhmm-hmm.” She nods, her face making a swish against his wool covered chest.

He smirks at her, this perfect woman that seems like such a little vulnerable creature. It makes him feel more normal than he’s felt in his entire life. He realises then, four months, four years, fourteen years, he isn’t letting her get away again. Not without a considerable fight.

He feels her breathe in, before sighing audibly. “You smell like….Harvey,” She remarks, her eyes closed still.

“That’s because I’m…oh, nevermind,” He groans, too tired now to even reason with her.

“Harv…” He hears her sleep laden voice vibrate against his chest then.

“Yes Don?” He jokes, something little for himself in this strange moment.

“M’ drunk.” She says, every little part of the word as delicate as glass.

“Oh, I know.” He chuckles, pressing her closer into him. “I should have video’d this.” He notes.

“N’ tired.” She says, yawning against him.

“Well…” He options, pulling her to him as the doors of the elevator opens, and he nudges her forward, his waist holding her a little off of the ground, so that he can move them both towards his door, no less an six feet away. “You’re headed for bed anyhow, so.” He tells her, fishing out his keys and forcing them into the lock. The apartment door swings open, the lights low from his earlier exit. He shuts the door behind them, the light of the hallway closing off into the moodiness of his condo.

He reasons, that it’s worth him just picking her up again, and without a warning to her, he folds her in half again, biting down on his teeth just to ignore his arm’s stab of protest. She passes out half way there, a mere seven of the fourteen or fifteen steps to his bedroom. He pauses at the doorway, reigning in a breath for the last few steps, before draping her onto the bed, his back protesting now at the entire journey he’s made with her as his dead weight.

He sighs, watching her wriggle like redheaded worm in arctic blue Versace.

Even as a perfectly complicated drunk, she is completely beautiful. He takes a moment to acknowledge the fact that she hasn’t thrown up yet, before the idea sends a wave of dread into his chest, and he hot foots it to the kitchen, picking a salad bowl out of the cupboard and a quick glass, that he fills with water.

When he returns to the bedroom she’s managed to turn over, as he sets the bowl and glass on her bedside table, sitting alongside her.

He frowns for a moment, before his head bends down, nearer to her neck. “Donna…” He says. “I’m gonna get you out of these clothes.” He says, more for himself than for her. His hand slides against her hips, turning her back over as one hand slops dramatically onto the quilt, the other over herself, her mouth hanging open in the shape of a kidney bean.

He struggles not laugh, his fingers itching to take a photo of the this moment as a humorous keepsake for the future.

Luckily, the heavens have aligned in his favour for this last act of the night, as he notices the long copper zip, going from one end of the front of her tulle dress right up to the high collar. He unzips her slowly, with a growing sigh of relief. Peeling her out of either side, he reveals her peach coloured panties and lack of bra - understandable considering the sheer factor of the top of the dress - before he takes a cover from a nearby chair, wrapping it around her, before throwing back the covers on the other side, his side, and rolling them down. He  folds her into the bed, bringing the covers around her then.

As snug as a drunk bed bug in a rug…

He figures it’s more trouble being anal about whose side is who’s, as he moves the bowl and glass of water over to his side, nearer her.

He looks at her then, barely having moved and most likely passed out now for the entire night, as he turns off several lights and changes into some slacks, leaving only the small table lamp on her side to create a lemony glow in the grey room. He figures if she wakes in a panic, or needs to throw up, then she won’t be in the dark, as it were.

He slides into bed next to her, feeling her move slightly, as he gravitates towards her on his side, his hand sliding onto her bare stomach, as his other hand folds underneath what is usually her pillow.

He relaxes, finally, as his own eyes start to feel the pull of sleep.

He falls asleep smiling crookedly,

At the promise of tomorrow’s string of entertaining conversations.

And the decision firm in his mind, 

That he’s going to marry this beautiful drunken mess of a woman before the year is out.

.

[darveyfics]

Mike POV - watching darvey at the firm halloween party.

Time 1/1 

Mike Ross glances amongst the crowd of heavily overdressed individuals. It’s his very first Halloween work party, and a first for the firm, as well. His light blue eyes flick between the slightly obscured faces, his champagne suspended in his loose grip of the stem, as he watches the crowds of people immerse themselves in fine liquor and colourful attitudes.

Mike Ross has always viewed himself as a people watcher. An observer of mankind. A casual onlooker. It comes hand in hand with his natural gift, to absorb his surroundings, to catalogue moments, and recount them should the need for it arise at any given moment.

But with the people that he knows, he often tries to temper it. Out of loyalty and respect for his loved ones, to give them a privacy away from his rather acute gift.

With two people in particular, he finds himself trying even harder. More so, than with any others.

Ignoring glances, avoiding that palpable address of one another.

Paula Agard is out of the picture. It was a momentous event, and one that he thought would finally start the ball of change rolling. To alter things for the better. 

And yet, two of his most loved individuals, akin to the only parental roles in his life, are still not on speaking terms.

His eyes zone in on Harvey, his usual tux adorned with a red wine coloured cape and a half mask - Louis had been instrumental in upgrading Harvey’s boring interpretation of a standard penguin suit - making him the notable villain of the night instead.

It fit him. The sense of ambiguous intentions, and the slight drama and flare to aid his dark gaze. But Mike Ross knew different of a man such as he, knew that underneath those hard steel lines, and granite soul, lay the heart of a lover, and a veritable ‘lost boy’. He watches the older man, his onyx eyes mixed in effortless conversation, only to glance once, twice, and several other times into the middle of the room.

He smiles to himself, his own eyes trying to chart the exact position of his interest.

The red hair is a dead giveaway, somehow darker and yet more vivid against the sparkly, almost jewel-emblazoned sleeveless crimson dress and long violet gloves. He had been taken aback, earlier in the night. He knew that Rachel wasn’t the one to be that confident, often choosing to offset her natural shyness by playing against the wall. But he didn’t expect Donna, even in her flare of theatrics to be so…bold, so overt. Her hair is big and dripping in a thick wave of loose curls down one side of her shoulder, her makeup dramatic, lilic eyelids and thick black lashes with a slight caricature feel to it and a high slit in her dress that shows off her long toned and pale legs, down to a pair of racy red stilettos. Add to that, full red lips and her natural confidence, and it help her bridged the gap between demure and predatory.

If she hadn’t been surrounded by bunnies, and cat women, and Louis dressed in a Henry the Eighth costume, it would have been sheer overkill.

The Associate pool always spoke of the peppy and sexy Donna Roberta Paulsen. 

Right now, surrounded by her peers and clients alike,

She was the sexiest one in the room, by far.

And Harvey Specter, no longer connected to his other half, was now well aware of it.

Harvey’s jaw had set the moment that she’d first graced the party, with a handsome date no less, immediately sending alarm bells ringing out into the air at the worrying possibility of events that could unfold as a result of her decision to bring a stranger to the event.

Together, Harvey and Donna were an unbreakable team.

Apart, they were a volcano waiting to pour it’s fury onto all that surrounded them.

He’d never thought for a moment, that two single people could wreak as much havoc like they had over the last three weeks.

He watches Harvey sling back the scotch in his hands, leaning forward to the faceless party that surrounds him, and seems to pay his goodbyes, before striding to the bar with a heaviness.

Harvey Specter had started drinking far too much, lately. Mike had caught him in secret moments, sliding the amber ‘emotion killer’ into his tumbler before downing it and then continuing with the day as if not such a moment had passed.

And this time, Donna wasn’t there to catch his fall. If anything, she was standing by the sidelines and watching him burn willingly with fire brimming her eyes.

His own eyes draw to one ‘Jessica Rabbit’, laughing with her date and a passing Rachel, who has decided to come as an English Judge, of all things. He had laughed outright at that when she’d emerged from their bedroom earlier in the night, his gorgeous and petite fiancee adorned with a heavy white wig and a black cloak, with a book of old law. He knew then, that she was a keeper.

His eyes observe Donna, that flirtatiousness pouring out of her as she seems to recount a story to her precious audience of two, her hands animated, as her dates hand slides against her back in small movements. She looks…happy. Enjoying herself. The life and soul of the party. 

But Mike knows differently. He’d caught her crying in her office a few days previous, after the sound of shouting had ruptured the quickly closing evening, the outburst carefully clothed by the night. He had watched Harvey bound out of the firm into an elevator after the shouting had stopped, leaving a distilled anguish to drift into the halls in his wake.

She is hurting. And this is her coverup.

His eyes flick back to Harvey, his gaze now fired directly at the vivacious looking object of his repressed desire, his jaw set like he is readying himself for another fight, his chest puffing out in distaste as he drags the fresh glass against his lips.

Mike watches as Harvey’s gaze is caught by Rachel leaving, and an interchange between the remaining pair, casual and informative that causes her date to glide towards the bathroom or possibly out to make a call.

It’s only then, that the real Donna finally emerges from her purposeful disguise. Her shoulders slumping as she picks up her fluted glass from a nearby bar style table adorned with orange and black confetti and a characterful pumpkin lamp. She downs the champagne with a similar vigour to her displaced counterpart, as she runs her fingers through her hair, seeming to let out a long sigh.

He can feel it then, like a spider sense as his eyes flick to Harvey, the impulse ripe and ready as the man courses across the library with a shark like intent ready to bite or be bitten, his eyes zoned in on the redhead.

It’s like watching a car crash in reverse, as the redhead notices him, straightening immediately in defence, as his Boss grinds to a halt in front of her, his gait more aggressive than perhaps even he intended. His jaw flexes, his mouth opening with a twist as his eyes flash like a dogs. She immediately turns, ignoring him, finishing her drink and folding the free arm against herself, until his hand slides against her side, and her head jerks towards his gaze, overactive against his smooth touch. They are like two fireworks, waiting to go off. In that moment, he can’t seen either of their faces, but watches as Donna nods curtly, before she turns, her face unreadable as she walks in the direction of what looks like the Associate’s bullpen, Harvey following soon after.

He’s never been so intrigued, as his eyes follow them, watching as they leave the party with an intent that has nothing to do with clients or schmoozing or celebrating the night for what it is.

Even when they are not together, they are wrapped up in one another.

He feels like a voyeur then, the intention to follow them rising in his gut as he plucks a champagne from a passing waiter, downing the bubbly and crisp alcohol in one, before popping the glass back on the tray before the waiter is able to pass him. He feels the gas rise, covering a burp with his hand as he saunters in the direction of his friends.

It grips him, half curiosity and half desperation for a happy ending, as he glides quietly down the hall, the grey walls narrowing as his ears sharpen, his neck craning to find the slightest shred of a familiar sound from either of them.

The lights are low, any associates at the party on their one true night off of the year - barring the holidays - and the ones not invited crying in their beds at their own supposed inadequacies.

His eyes narrow, worry setting in then, as he observes the bullpen, completely empty. He frowns, hearing a knock further ahead, the reverberating sound of a door or a shelf being swatted. He hangs a left, peering into the back entrance of the file room. By this point he knows he’s more than drunk, overstepping a mark or worse, but he needs to know. He feels invested now. In this twisted story of two people made for one another and yet so far away they could count the constellations between them.

He wanders down an aisle, boxes towering either side of him as he glides down towards the end.

He hears a breath, a woman’s sigh as he rounds the corner.

He’s not really prepared for what’s in front of him.

Donna, pressed firmly against the copier, her hands clamped around Harvey’s neck and a stiletto clad leg wrapped around the back of his suited calf, his mask discarded on the floor beneath them, and his crooked mouth pouting slightly above a heavy frown, as his lips crush against hers, red smudging against the bottom of his chin.

Mike inhales a sharp breath, a thoughtless reflex to the all too private sight in front of him, as Donna’s eyelids snap open, hazel eyes boring back into his as she almost shoves Harvey backwards, their mouths snapping apart as Mike watches Harvey double take the action, before looking back at him.

Their intruder.

Donna mutters something to herself that he doesn’t catch, picking up her purse from the floor as she flees quickly from the situation, a look of shock etching her flushed face. No doubt rushing to find her date. 

Harvey turns, looking in the direction of Donna’s exit, before his eyes fire a potent accusation at his best friend.

He shouldn’t have followed them.

But at least he doesn’t have to intervene any longer. 

Maybe things really will be okay.

His older friend seems to sense the words floating around in his head, looking at him with a held frustration.

“Mike,” He warns tiredly, bending quickly to pick up his mask as he waits for the tirade of abuse that’s been known to follow before.

“Well…It’s about time.” Mike says plainly, watching as a number of expressions fleet across the unreadable man’s face.

He watches Harvey look back at him.

Like a man caught between a decision and several outcomes.

-

[darveyfics]

Phrase prompt: "When two people had something together that they lost, no matter how much they love each other, they will never cross that boundary again in case they get hurt again"

The Woman and the Ghost - 1/1

… … . 

Specter

spectreˈspɛktə/

noun

a ghost.

~

Donna

ˈdɒnə/

noun

a title or form of address for an Italian woman.

… …

The years between them rush past them like a wave.

Auburn turns to strawberry blonde and dark blonde starts to move towards silver.

The world changes on the turn of a dime, but they remain as they once did.

Two fixed points.

As she pushes, he pulls.

As she encourages, he demands.

She gives, and he takes.

Like moving magnets they are forced together and pulled apart.

Work.

Functions.

Baby Showers.

Weddings.

Some, they are main participants in, but most are just segways to their most valued relationships. Their people. Their family.

Until the glass ceiling of their joined world finally breaks, ripping her from his womb like state.

Yet still, after time and consequence, they seem to fall in step one, twice, maybe three times more.

… . .

Harvey’s shoulder aches with a fury, on this crisp Fall morning.

When he slams the door behind himself, a head full of sleep on the way down to the ground floor and not quite ready to meet the heavy beat of traffic on the Manhattan streets, he whips a breath inside his lungs, keeping his head down before he can reach the safe confines of the park.

The week has been packed with dilemmas, and high stakes and the complications of a changing economy, and he’s starting to feel it now…the comings of age. It sneaked up behind him and shook him with vigour only to leave him weak, and underprepared for the future. He hates that. Being behind the eight ball…

He’s starting thinking of life after the firm. He’d blocked it out after his last break up, the wounds still fresh from the fire of consequence. But now things have settled, he too is looking for much of the same.

He gains speed, a frown setting between his eyebrows, as his feet beat into the stoned covered path. Running helps ease the pain, and the frustration and the general wonderings of his mind.

He’s been doing that a lot, wondering.

Thinking about the paths that his life took, naturally. About the many outcomes verses the many decisions that were his to make.

He tires easily now, cutting his run short. He’s still not caught up on Vacation time, and it’s starting to show that he is burning out. He always stashes his card and phone in his hooded sweater, just in case he feels the need to take a pause, or get a coffee. Today, he’s feeling the need for a little break.

He hops across Fifth Avenue, wandering into Bluestone Lane, a favourite cafe of his, delivering Australian coffee with a fast service and a simple menu with the promise of brunch. He runs his hands through his hair, feeling the moisture there as he orders a double espresso macchiato, tapping his card on the black device that lights up from red to green.

He turns to the condiments stand, reaching for sugar.

“Harvey?”

His eyes flick up, the familiar and yet seemingly ghostly voice of his past.

“Donna,” He blinks, observing the large hazel eyes, and a ripple of much lighter, almost strawberry blonde hair.

He straightens, taking in the fine lines on her face, the muted colours of tan and tope that she wears, a pair of slacks and a jacket. She’s shorter, when not in heels. He wonders if she stopped wearing them the moment that she left…

“I…how are you? It’s…odd, to see you out at this time.” He says.

“Harvey, you’re right by my apartment,” She points out frowning.

He closes his eyes. his thoughts clarifying.

She had moved a long, long time ago.

Gone are the physical memories of him being at her door. Of that one night. Of the many moments that never quite resolved between them…

“Of course,” He says, forgetting himself. “How’s…Mark?” He asks, holding onto any opinion his voice could entertain.

Her eyes widen, looking about the ornate church ceiling above them, before she looks back at him. “The divorce is…finalised, now. We’re…I’m keeping the apartment.” She notes with a smile.

He frowns, his mouth opening in confusion. “I…” He stumbles on the right words to say. “I’m sorry.” He tells her.

“It is what it is.” She remarks solidly, changing the subject then. “What about you?” She asks.

“Oh…you know me…eternal bachelor.” He shrugs tiredly.

Her eyebrow quirks, something so bittersweet and yet so truthful about the understanding in her eyes. “Of course,” She smiles.

“How you doing?” He asks then, his voice planting a frankness in it’s tone. “You…want to grab a coffee?” He says, interrupting his own train of thought.

“That’s why I’m here.” She remarks awkwardly, chuckling at his question as she regards the Baristas working behind the counter.

He closes his eyes for a moment, a tired smirk falling onto his leaner looking face. “Of course,”

“I have an hour or two,” She offers, calming his nerves.

.

They slide onto a corner table, and suddenly he feels completely out of place in slacks and a hoody, against her perfectly acceptable winter attire.

Long gone are the days of dinners together and shitty Thai food…

“So…” She starts, less intention about her words. “How’s the firm doing?”

“Donna…you get a quarterly report…do you not look at it?” He remarks, giving her a look.

“I…no.” She admits. “It’s…difficult, Harvey. I don’t work there anymore, technically, and it’s…kind of…sad, I guess. That place was my home for so long and…”

“Donna. It’s still your home. It always will be. You didn’t have to leave.” He says, shuffling in his seat. 

“I think we both know, that I did…at the time,” She tells him.

“You didn’t have to stay gone.” He admits, playing with his take away cup.

“Is that your way of saying that you missed me?” She offers, her lips bending in a secret smile.

“No,” He says, a laugh falling out. “This is: I’ve missed you, Donna.” He tells her boldly.

“I’ve missed you, too.” She sighs, before covering the building sentiment. “But the last few years…they’ve been good to me.” She insists.

“I’m glad.” He says.

“How are you? How is…work…?” She asks, stepping tenderly over such a concept. Mike and Louis and Rachel and Harvey. Still there. Still going through the motions. 

“I’m good, I’m…I hate admitting this but I’m…tired.” He sighs, shrugging.

She smiles widely. “Finally,” Her voice pulls on an irony, rolling her eyes. “I knew fifty two would pull on you.” She remarks, suddenly animated, like a ghost of her former self. “You feeling that mid life crisis yet?” She teases.

“What? Like…fast cars, young women and the innate urge to wreak havoc? I think we both know I’ve been doing that for longer than I’ve known you..”

She laughs, the truth of his statement colouring the air with an energy he can’t define. An echo of their former rhythm.

He finds himself smiling, watching her make fun of him.

“I guess you have.” She smiles, before something flits across her face. “So…you haven’t…taken the plunge, yet?” She asks, her eyes flicking with a shyness to her coffee cup, picking it up then.

“No,” He says quietly, watching her. She suddenly looks younger. Less…removed. More…Donna.

“You need to fix that, Harvey.” She tells him. “Having someone to come home to is…really nice.”

“Says the woman who just got divorced,” He remarks.

He mentally berates himself the moment he sees her expression change. “I’m sorry…I’m an ass, that was cruel.” He says, frowning heavily.

“No you’re right. But…in having been married, I can tell you…that you can’t beat waking up next to someone.”

“Oh, I know what it’s like to wake up next to someone,” He smirks, giving her a knowing look.

“I mean…someone that you love, Harvey. Someone that’s…just yours. Someone that you belong to.”

It hits like gunfire, and spreads across his chest like warm milk.

He hasn’t felt that feeling since before she left. Left him. Left the firm. Left everything that they had built together.

In four seconds flat he’s that forty-five year old man, with his heart in his mouth looking at a woman with pieces of her own beating vessel scattered all around him. The whip of her fire ridden hair, as she leaves, and the salty, almost burning tears in his eyes at her doing so. The pounding of his hand, and the ripping open of a door. The flash of words and pain and anger and shock, with the door slamming back just as quick as it had opened.

“I never told you that I was sorry…for what happened back then.” He says, his fingers fidgeting against his cup.

“No. You didn’t.” She smiles, the expression not quite reaching her eyes.

“I am sorry…” He reaffirms, his face bending to match the notable dent in his heart.

“Harvey…it’s all...in the past.” She tells him lightly.

He’s inclined to believe the opposite at this point.

Before, he never thought it was the case. But today…seeing her has…surprised him, somewhat.

“Have dinner with me tonight.” He says, straightening.

“Harvey,” She says, an objection lacing her words.

“Seriously. Have dinner with me.” He says. “For old times sake.”

“We can’t.” she says.

“Why not?”

“Because…we can’t go back.” She says. “It’s been five years since I left.”

“I don’t care.” He says, leaning towards her. “Come on. Like old friends.”

He watches her fidget then, picking up a bag he didn’t pay for as a gesture off thanks, and standing up against the table that isn’t glass.

“It was really good to see you, Harvey.” She says, her eyes seeming glassier than they had a moment before.

She slides towards the door, moving between a growing queue before he even has the time to react, his mouth filled like his much younger self..

He stands, before striding out of the cafe with gusto.

But when he looks out onto the side walk, his eyes flicking admits the traffic,

She’s gone.

Like an apparition, leaving the scattering of red and orange and gold leaves all around him.

He feels the burn, of another of her famous exits out of his life.

He doesn’t run after her. A mirror of the many times before, and the mere few after. She doesn’t feel a sear at his absence of words this time. She doesn’t even listen the seventh, eighth, ninth time he tries.

She is the woman of his dreams,

And he realises then, that he will forever be a ghost, wandering after the mere thought of her.

Holding their love against his battered heart like a precious keepsake.

.

[darveyfics]

Donna taking care of drunk harvey at his condo after the halloween party. Drunk confessions happen.

Here’s the link guys. This was a cute prompt so let’s all take a break from the angst and enjoy the fluff. 

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12693186/1/Everything 

[darveyfics]

Harvey and Donna stay home during a storm.

‘Calm’

By Atheniandream

.

“Wow, it’s really coming down out there,” 

Harvey walks out of his bedroom to the distinct sound of her voice, her interest slightly muffled against the wall to wall glass panels that line his condo. 

He notices her tall, elegant form, dressed in black leggings and a green textured top that hangs at the neck, her hair loose as she stands with her hands on her hips. 

“Are you misting up my windows?” He accuses playfully, waiting for her to give him a withering look - which she does, of course - and smirks back at her, as he pads slowly across the apartment.

“Want me to write ‘HS hearts DP’?” She offers, pouting.

“Please don’t.” He says in a fatherly tone, that soon blends into an afterthought. “Unless it’s backwards.” He adds, as a strange amendment. 

“What? So the pigeons can see it?” She remarks, as they share a look that flashes with possibilities. She sighs. “Does your balcony ever flood?” She asks him, turning back to the view outside.

He picks up her empty glass along the way to the kitchen, the one that she had discarded the moment that the torrential rain had started to fall, and collects his own from the edge of the counter; picking up the open bottle of red wine to pour them both another glass each. 

“We’re on the top of the building, Donna, so I don’t think so…” He says. “But if you see an Arc float by, then let me know and I’ll start investing in speedboats.” He says leisurely. 

Her sense of humour has really started to rub off on him over the past few months. He’s learning to joke with her by his side, now. But only with her…and occasionally Mike. 

“Funny,” She remarks dryly, turning towards him, finally indulging in his ripe teasing of her, before the rain outside seems to draw heavier against the patio, making her return back to the sheer sight of it. She inhales sharply, as the rain soon turns to small clear pebbles of hail, that bounce along the concrete slabs with vigour.

He smiles, watching her as she looks out onto almost darkness, save for the outdoor lamps that light the porch from the floor up. 

“You’re like a cat, you know that?” He tells her, smiling at her as he wanders over to her. 

She turns around, a perfect eyebrow arching at him. 

“Does that make you the dog?” She offers devilishly, taking the glass that he hands to her and sipping at the wine she’d chosen for them earlier in the day.

“I thought that cats and dogs didn’t get along?” He offers, something sultry about his deep voice, as one hand slides underneath the edge of her top. She sighs with an inevitability, moving her glass out of the way so that he can plant an indulgent kiss against her lips. Her free hand slides up and along his jaw, as she moans against the groan that rises in his throat, his head tilting as his hand presses them together for a moment. Her eyes open for a second, her hand sliding to the nape of his neck as she observes his hazy browns staring at her in the way that they seem to do now, a mixture of things they’ve said and things she knows are coming.

There’s a sudden flash outside, bright and white and large in the sky, as it visually cracks with attention against the silver framed windows. Donna jumps a little and out of his arms as the second flash erupts into the night sky. 

“Hey, you okay?” He asks her, chuckling at the flight in her. 

“Yeah…it’s just…Wow.” She says. “You can see everything up here.”

He rolls his eyes in an instance. “When I showed you the same view, last week, you told me you were ‘over it’?” He accuses, a mock-wounded expression on his face. 

She smiles, giving him a look. “One: You had your hand up my skirt, and Two: There wasn’t a gigantic storm outside!” She says, her hand gesturing wildly to the large windows behind her, as a crack of thunder erupts against the glass, like the calling of Thor himself.

He chuckles, his cheekbones sifting into a worn in smile, as he watches her turn her back once more, his own gaze occupied with her look of wonder, as she looks out over the whole of the Central Park-wide gap in the New York City Skyline. 

“I mean…look at it,” She gestures, her voice filled with a sort of wonder.

“Yeah, It’s pretty beautiful.” He mutters, smiling to himself.

He’s lost her again, he thinks, when she gets closer to the glass then, and another flash erupts as if perfectly on cue. 

“Do you mind if we turn the lights off?” She asks him. 

He frowns, smirking at her strangeness. “You wanna watch the storm, Honey?” He says, patronising her to within an inch of her life. He loves to rile her these days, because when he does it just right, it usually ends up with her touching him, and then him kissing her. And he is always 100% behind that…

“You’re an ass. And yes I do.” She replies, besting him. 

He smiles, wandering over to the silver console on the wall, immediately clicking all the lights off, save for the fire, that ripples gently with molten orange flames in the background. 

He moves over to her, as another flash erupts, slightly yellower than last time, and pushes one of the chairs he has around to face the view. 

“Hey….” He says, gaining her attention, “If you wanna watch the show, you may as well get a good seat,” He offers, pointing to the black chair.

He notices her frowning in the slight glow of the fire. 

“What about you?” She asks.

“Give me sec,” He says, placing his glass down on the counters as he moves to his bureau, pushing the black chair all the way over to the stationary one. 

She senses his plan, as she watches him line up the chairs. He looks at her, offering a silent look of victory at his display, as she smiles, disconnecting from the light show to slide onto the lower chair.

“Oh yeah? Going with comfort, are we?” He offers, an accusation at her taking what they both consider to be the ‘comfier’ chair. He’s often found her lounging in that one, reading back issues of Vogue on the Sundays that she’s over. Which appear to be about every single Sunday of the year, judging by the past month alone.

“Just sit down,” She orders, giving him a look, as he does as told and sits on the desk chair, an expectant pout as her free hand grabs onto the chair, pulling it and him on the rollers, until he’s by her side. It’s then, that she rests her head on his right leg, and all at once, he thinks what a fabulous idea it is, covering his smirk with a gulp of wine, before transferring the glass to his left hand, so that his fingers can run through her hair. 

She sighs, looking out to the light show, feeling a wave of calm wash over her at the view, and the feeling of his fingers lightly massaging her scalp. 

They drift into silence for while, as he starts to take interest in the golden bolts that dance with electricity across the purply-blue sky. How they chase in a pattern amongst the heavy light grey clouds, that seem to emboss themselves against the almost darkness, bringing the rain to fall down in thick sheets with a divine purpose, like she’s right, as usual, and the end really is coming. 

He thinks for a moment, that if the end were to really come, then at least she’s here with him. 

He’s realised, that she is the only thing he really needs. Regardless of what’s happening around them.

He smiles to himself, until he hears her sigh, and smirks, bending down to witness her eyes closed, her face calm and smothered in sleep.

He chuckles to himself, waiting for the storm to pass.

She wouldn’t want to miss it, unconscious, or not. 

A x

[darveyfics]

"Nothing you say will ever, ever make me forgive you for this..." Harvey insults Donna during a very heated argument. lol I love pain.

. 

She’s never seen him look so angry. He’s livid, his back arched, and his face stony, his jaw solid and his eyes firing on all cylinders. 

It seems fitting, that all that anger be directed at right at her. 

Judging by this week alone, she’s going to hell in a hand basket, anyway…

“You told her?” He accuses, his voice wobbling with the pressure. “You told my girlfriend that we kissed?” He fires at her, his words clarifying.

“No.” She clarifies. “Paula came to me, and asked me point blank if I kissed you. I told her that I did. But I did not go to her.” She corrects, swiping a finger at the fact.

“It doesn’t matter who went to who, Donna.” He warns. “Her last boyfriend cheated on her. Do you get that?” He shouts at her. “And now you’ve put me in the position of not only being a cheater in her eyes, but hurting her in the process, when she hasn’t done a damn thing wrong !” He fires at her. “All you thought about was yourself, but it wasn’t just about you. And nothing you say will ever, ever make me forgive you for that.”

“Firstly, let’s not forget that you…kissed me back. Okay? It’s not just about me anymore. And you know what, Harvey…I don’t give a shit if her last ten boyfriends cheated on her.” She remarks boldly. “And as for her doing ‘nothing’….I’ll tell you something, I went to her over a year ago…”

“Excuse me?” He double takes, his eyes flashing.

“I went to her, looking for you, when Jessica was under the gun. Before Mike was arrested. And I talked to her. She knew about us. And I sat there, in her office and told her…that you didn’t know what you were missing. And we both knew that I meant me,”

“What?” He frowns, his potent anger suddenly lost in the confusion that her words bring him.

“She acted like she understood, like she gave a shit that I have been there, every day with you and every relationship you’ve ever had, watching them all fail, and still be overlooked. But it was bullshit. She didn’t understand. Either that or she didn’t care. And now she’s…in a relationship with you. And you fell for her. So excuse me, for suddenly having this terrifying feeling that I was in love with a man, that I was losing to the one person that was supposed to help us figure this all out.” She says, holding back the threat of tears. 

“Donna,” He mumbles under his breath.

“NO Harvey. I know that I kissed you. I know it was selfish, but for once, I needed to know how I felt. I told you that I wanted more, and yet, instead of giving me the time that I needed, to work out what that more was, you went to her, hours after, to start a relationship with her…”

“Donna, I,”

“You may not be able to forgive me for confirming something she already knew. But I will never ever forgive you for running out on me when I needed you the most.”

She barges past him then, knocking his shoulder in the process as she stalks away.

She’s done. 

Finally.

They are done. 

[darveyfics]

Louis has some heartbreaking news for Harvey about Donna... interpret this how ever you want. Based whenever you want.

.

He’s never run so fast in his entire life. 

He bounds into the Hospital, before striding to the reception, a flurry of commands and orders and her now distinct name rolling with practise off of his lips - along with little bit of his own - as his clenched fist drops solidly onto the counter. 

He’s in a daze, fingers pointing away from him, with ‘stranger’ mouthes moving in front of him in a blur as his body responds on autopilot. He’s desperately trying to quash the heartbeat pounding in his ears, thrumbing with an echo and a thud. The sear of acid in his stomach lashes up his throat and burns in his mouth with a vile taste.

He presses the elevator button, cursing at the drudging speed of it’s descent towards him.

He doesn’t have time. He’s already delayed. Fate had already kept him away from her for so long…

His eyes notice the door to the stairs, as he pushes it open roughly, taking them two at a time and thanking his consistent morning routine for the added support as he climbs four flights in total, every one of them a mountain in his mind.

He’s panting from the rush of adrenaline when he arrives at the right floor, pushing open the door to level three as his eyes read the various signs in a panic, looking for the right department. Looking for an endgame to his distended sense of dread. 

He finds the right one, marching along mint coloured walls and heads for the last reception of his journey, as a soft looking, older woman with glasses, shuffles paper in front of him. 

“I’m looking for Donna Specter? Where is she?” He asks impatiently.

“Sorry, Sir, can ask who you are to her?” She questions, looking at him.

“I’m her husband.” He says heavily, clamping down on the frustration coursing through his veins. 

The woman frowns, looking down the hall for moment. Before she can comment, he hears a familiar voice call down to him. 

“Harvey.”

He notices Louis, his eyes bloodshot red as he stands in the middle of the ward, his hands limp against his sides. 

His own chest lurches, as he walks over to the shorter man. 

His face is grave, unsure and terrified, as he stares back at Harvey. 

“Louis…” He manages, his chest heaving then. He doesn’t have to hear words to see that it’s bad. Really bad.

“I uh…I’m sorry, they wouldn’t let Mike know anything, so I…I lied…and then,” He rambles, regret etched on his stunned face.

“It’s fine, Louis.” He rushes the sentiment. “Where is she? Is she…”

“The way the car…hit her…she…” 

“Louis…” He swallows, feeling a punch within his gut, his heart beating too fast to concentrate. “Just tell me.” He orders. “Please.”

He watches as Louis trembles, his face bending into a panicked cry as his hand tries to stop the eruption of tears. “She lost the baby…”

It’s like a literal punch to the face. 

They only had a month left. One month. Four little weeks, until…

They had a room filled with green and yellow and blue.

He had recalled her sitting in it lately, talking to the person that he knew she was so excited to see. That they both were.

It had been the first time in his life that he truly felt complete.  

Now, he felt limp, his throat dry despite the tears in his eyes. 

“Is she, uh…” He starts, unable to finish the words.

“She’s stable. They operated on her two hours ago.” He explains. “I made sure she had a good room.” 

“I dropped my phone.” He says numbly, his glaze blurring. 

He had been in board meeting. He had dropped his phone whilst taking a piss, of all things. He had spoken to her half an hour before that. She was shopping for things. Happy and light and whimsical about being ‘knocked up by Harvey Specter’…

“Harvey…I’m so sorry.” Louis says, throwing his mind back into the room.

“It’s okay.” He tells the man, nodding, half telling himself in the process.  “Where is she?”

“Harvey,” Louis warns then. 

He frowns, judging the man’s reticent expression. “Louis. I need to see my wife. Right now.”

He watches as his friend and Partner judges his expression, before turning his back. He follows, his hands balling into fists.

With every step he takes it gets harder to walk, despite his rushing urge to see the literal love of his life. 

He spots Mike and Rachel first, Rachel’s face is drenched with tears, and Mike is holding her a mere foot or two away from the end of the bed. They look to him, their faces as pained as his feels. No doubt the entire team had set themselves against the usual hospital laws. 

They are a unit. A family. All of them. They do it all together.

It’s then that he notices the splayed red hair across the pillow. The bruises. The broken arm in plaster and the gaping, resonating absence, 

Of where their child once lay, waiting patiently for them. 

His mouth falls open, a puff of air forcing itself out as his shoulders drop at the realisation. 

He had nearly lost her, too. Hell, he still could. And hell it would most certainly be…

Her face is peaceful, as he moves slowly but loyally to her side, gravitating towards the chair nearer to her. It still feels warm - Louis must have been here in his absence - as he pulls it closer to her bedside. He stretches over to her, his right hand taking her left as he pulls it towards his face, kissing it soundly. Her diamond ring is missing. He frowns, even the absence of that painting his face a darker colour. 

Despite it all, she looks like a peaceful angel, if you concentrate on the left side of her face. If you ignore the bruises and the drastic change in her. 

“Donna,” He whispers, his jaw clamping with the tension of seeing her like this. He draws a breath, tears falling between their joined hands. “I’m so sorry.” He sobs, finally. 

His friends linger near him. Knowing that he needs them now, more than ever. 

Knowing that she does, too.  

They watch after him, as he watches after her unconscious form. 

If you must wait,Wait for them here in my arms as I shakeIf you must weep,Do it right here in my bed as I sleepIf you must mourn, my loveMourn with the moon and the stars up aboveIf you must mourn,Don’t do it aloneIf you must leave,Leave as though fire burns under your feetIf you must speak,Speak every word as though it were uniqueIf you must die, sweetheartDie knowing your life was my life’s best partAnd if you must die,Remember your lifeYou areYou areOh, you areYou areOhIf you must fight,Fight with yourself and your thoughts in the nightIf you must work,Work to leave some part of you on this earthIf you must live, darling one,Just liveJust liveJust live

‘You’ by Keaton Henson.