Hello, everyone. I know I'm behind on my fics, and I apologize. School has been a hectic mess with exams and I'm also in the middle of moving. However, I unexpectedly wrote out this little smutty thing and I had to share. Hopefully I'll be able to post the Under Pretense epilogue soon as well as something else I've been working on.

I wanted to dedicate this story to my favorite cheerleaders- Etty and Elle. Thanks for making me laugh and cry (because I'm laughing so hard). I'd be lying if I said they didn't help inspire this fic. And many others.

Also, this story doesn't really have much of a time stamp on it, except you can say it's before Harvey started dating Paula.

Hope y'all enjoy. We're almost at the finish line for 7B!

xxx

We can't make
Any promises now, can we, babe?
But you can make me a drink

…

Her vision is starting to blur, skin glowing with an effervescent alcohol-induced buzz. Her pink tongue sneaks out to wet her lips, tasting the bitter after-taste of Macallan as she eyes him warily. He's standing in the corner of his office, pouring another helping of the dark amber liquid that was now coursing through her own veins, spreading its way to alight every cell in her body with a spark.

Donna crosses her legs then, hoping he doesn't catch the subtle movement from the corner of his eyes, but as his lips twitch just slightly, she thinks he does. The asshole.

"Another?" He doesn't wait for her reply, just hands her the now full glass as he trades it in for her empty one. She doesn't even question how they're swapping glasses, isn't at all fazed by the gesture when they've done it countless times before. It's as close as being intimate without... going there.

"Sure," she answers lazily from her position on his black leather couch, eyes still trained on his own form- sans jacket, donning a light blue vest that matches the stripes on his now loosened tie. "I'm not restricting myself to a bedtime tonight."

He smirks as he pours himself his own drink, a delicious current provided by the first helping of it coursing through him. "No hot date tonight?"

Harvey grits his teeth slightly when he expelled the "t" the slightest of bite to his tone slipping without his consent.

"Well..." she drawls out for a moment, hazel eyes cloudy as she watches him sitting next to her, a couple of inches closer than earlier. "That depends."

His forehead creases in that way when he hears her say something that bewilders him- throws him off his game just enough to allow a low chuckle to escape her lips. "On what?"

Donna tilts her head, his low vibrato making her eyes flit to his lips on reflex, now covered by the glass more than half filled with scotch. She bites her own lip, a scold catching in the back of her throat. If it had been any other night, she would've berated him for drinking more than his usual share. Not that it would've stopped him. But they did just win a case and acquire a huge new client, hence their impromptu late night celebration. So, she'll grant him a free pass.

They were the only souls left at PSL that night. The top floor of the firm now humming with a white noise strictly interrupted by their hushed tones and subdued and semi-tipsy giggles. She didn't question how unorthodox it was for them. At least for this moment in time. They hadn't done this in a while- celebrated by themselves, without a buffer to be wedged between them. But when the day had come to its inevitable close, and he had asked her for a celebratory drink with that Specter gleam in his eyes that she had missed seeing for the better part of the week... she couldn't say no.

And now, sitting here in his office as one of his jazz albums played a soft melody in the background, crackling slightly on the old record player, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt they were venturing close to dangerous territory. But still, she didn't budge.

"It depends on... what your definition of a date is." She gazes at him beneath her fluttering eyelashes, watching with slight amusement how his throat bobs at her words. She knew she had him.

"What about my definition of hot?" He counters with quick recovery, smirking when she loses her poker face for the briefest of moments.

Donna schools her features just as quickly, throwing back just about half an ounce of the dark liquid... courage... without so much as wincing. She thinks she catches a glimmer of surprise in eyes. "It is pretty... hot in here. You mess with the thermostat or something?"

Harvey laughs, that throaty sound reverberating through his skin and she feels it's contagion as her skin shivers from its sound alone, contradicting her quip. "I haven't fiddled with anything, Donna."

He wiggles his fingers as show of proof, raising them comically and she has to swallow back, re-crossing her legs at the same time.

"You must have ghosts then," she shrugs, downing the rest of the Macallan in one go. He eyes her warily, brown eyes turned onyx in the dim light as he watches her copper manes falling back, flitting to the perfect arch of her jaw and down to her slim form- covered in a sheath of periwinkle silk that hugged her every curve.

"You're still hot in that?"

She raises a perfectly arched eyebrow at him, watching how he visually undresses her in her Dolce summer work dress. Sans sleeves. Leaving little to the imagination.

"I thought I was hot in everything."

Her sass is met by a strangled cough and she doesn't hide the snort when she watches him struggling against the burn of scotch.

"You did that on purpose."

"Look hot tonight?"

Look hot every night.

He fixes her with a stare, instead, prompting her own set of pearly whites to peek behind her crimson lips.

"You're incorrigible."

She laughs, the sound light and airy, filling his heart to the brim with something he's had to fight like hell to suppress for too many years. "Yeah, well, you didn't answer my question." When he cocks his head to the side she lets out a scoff, rolling her eyes like a habitual force, "On your definition of... a date."

"You think this is a date?" He motions between them with the hand that holds his glass of scotch, the dark liquid sloshing just slightly.

Donna purses her lips, fixes her boss with a stare that makes him nearly squirm in his seat. Operative word being nearly.

"This is- "

"What we always do."

"Is it?"

"Donna," her name is a low warning on his lips and she has to pause in her thoughts for a moment, watching the way his eyes flicker across her features in the near dark of the room.

She sighs next, reaching over to set her empty tumbler down on the glass table before she swivels back next to him, hands clasped firmly on her lap. He gets an eerie sense- like he's back in school and is about to be reprimanded for mouthing off. He shakes his head at the sudden thought, his head dulling with the low birth of a migraine. He's barely slept that week and the insomnia was finally catching up to him.

It had nothing to do with the redhead currently watching him like a Phoenix- staring down her prey with a hidden purpose. Or so he tells himself.

"You look nervous."

"I'm- not," he creases his brow, watching her in half amusement- half intrigue.

She snorts out a gentle chuckle, posture still straight despite the alcohol that has now settled low in her bones, consuming her with a delicious hum. "You ever think to- let go?"

Her offer comes with a half shrug and Harvey finds himself holding his breath, feeling like he just walked straight into the lion's den.

The gold in her eyes flicker just slightly and he doesn't know how, but he manages to catch them just in time when he inches closer to her.

The move makes her blink and his lips curl for breaking her cool. Even just this once.

"What are you getting at here, Donna?"

Her name is honey on his lips, and she finds herself fighting against the knowledge that this was her boss- her best friend and confidante of nearly thirteen years. It all feels too familiar, too intimate and she feels the room growing ten degrees then.

She sighs, "Nothing."

Her head dips and he could almost taste the defeat on her tongue. His jaw sets, out of frustration or arousal or protectiveness, he doesn't know. Maybe a mixture of all three. He bolds another move suddenly but carefully all at once, sliding across the leather until his thigh was kissing hers.

"Donna," he waits until her hazel orbs meet his before he places his left hand on her thigh.

"Harvey," she parrots his tone with a slight quirk to her head, refusing to back down from his hawk-like stare. Refusing to glance down to his moistened lips.

His thumb sets a slow caress on her covered thigh, hand still despite. Just testing the waters. Dipping his feet in not-so uncharted territory just to gauge her reaction.

She only wavers once. When she swallows back in a futile attempt to quench her now dry throat, breath hitching when his musky sandalwood cologne catches her nostrils and suddenly the room around them blurs further.

"What did you mean?" His words are caught in a single breath- soft and low and too tender for her comfort in the moment, with his thumb still coaxing her closer to a place she wasn't sure he knew he was leading her to, consciously or not.

They didn't do this. They didn't get close to crossing any lines, to ignoring the signs and rules standing in their way just to succumb to their weakness and suppressed desires. They hid and spoke without saying much at all. They'd gotten close to being close to going there, but they never did.

But tonight...

"By letting go?" She bites her lip when she watches him wet his own, that familiar coil in her abdomen tightening when his caress is replaced by a light squeeze.

He only nods, doesn't dare to move another muscle and she knows he's waiting for her command. Or withdraw. Ever the gentleman.

Donna bows her head, allowing her honey waves to curtain her face and he wonders if he imagined the twitch on her lips. "Sometimes..." her right manicured hand slides up his own thigh, slithering like a snake about to stalk its victim. He hides the squeak that threatens to spill out of him with a sigh and forces his eyes to remain leveled with hers. "I just wish I wasn't-" she shrugs then and his brow furrows with renewed concern.

But he waits her out, like he always does. Lets her set the pace with a patience that could never be rivaled with anything or anyone else. He sees her internal struggle now that her eyes are free from the whisks of hair, and for the first time he catches her dilated pupils.

"Confined to a damn rule."

Harvey inhales sharply, despite having had an inkling as to where she was going with her chopped words. His heart speeds up, starting a low drum roll, setting the rhythm of his soul that aches to reach out for her. Or for her to reach out to him.

He shifts ever so slightly until he could face her more, his right hand blindly leaning over to set his glass down. He turns more directly toward her until his now free hand settled on the inside of her bare knee.

Her face was soft and free of any creases- a determined force to be reckoned with in the midst of a rocking sea. Harvey felt himself growing ever so dizzy then, the palpable waves of emotions swaying between them almost making him lose the courage to continue. Almost.

"You broke it once." For him, his mind finishes. But he knows she knows where his brain went, knows she's more than in-tune with the way his subconscious tends to leak out until his lips are spilling words they shouldn't, and they find themselves in yet another crossroads of denial and almosts and missed opportunities.

"That was different," she tells him softly.

"Why?"

Her head shakes just slightly, and he would've missed it had his eyes not been trained on hers.

"Because I didn't care about risking anything."

Her soft hoarse crackles the surface of his resolve that was continuing to crumble, and the hand that was placed on her knee moves just a quarter of an inch.

His face doesn't give weight, however, when he feels her body erupt into a fine sheath of goosebumps. When her next breath tries to mask the shiver that wraps her skin like a golden cloak.

"So... you don't want to... let go?" He throws her words back in her face, but she doesn't dare flinch. Her crimson lips quirk in that way that tells him she's had an ulterior motive all along. Like she had always planned on luring him in. Hook, line, and sinker.

The minx.

"Maybe... just for one night," she breathes with a steadiness that contradicts the way her heart begins to hammer against her chest.

Just then she hears the faintest of pats of rain against his thick windows. The sound barely drowns out their growing heady breaths, and it's then that she realizes he's shifted closer to her still.

"One night, huh?" He hums, and she can see that the aged scotch has more than fully settled low in his system. Gone was the fearful facade and trepidation, replaced by a cockiness she was sure he had used to his advantage on more than one occasion. A couple of times with her some twelve years in the past.

"What about you?"

Her whisper makes him pause his slight caress on her thigh again, fixing her with a stare that matches the one he wears when he's reading a new case file. Studying it. Wanting to soak in every last punctuation and letter, so when the time comes he can dive right in without an ounce of doubt.

"Me?"

She nods, "You never answered my question," she chuckles almost in annoyance. "Do you ever think about letting go?"

He hesitates for a moment and she tries to mask the flitting cloud of disappointment that covers her features, but then he's leaning forward, his nose nearly kissing hers and she doesn't fight back the hard swallow against his proximity. His cologne now overwhelming her senses, making her drown in his scent and comfort and she feels the room starting to spin.

"I try not to," he says at last, quiet enough for her to hear, the soft pelting of the rain against glass almost sweeping his words away into the wind.

"Hmm," her hand squeezes his thigh and it's enough of a wordless command that he boldly tiptoes the hand on her knee higher. Just slightly.

"Donna,"

Her eyes glance to his lips before meeting his darkened gaze again, watching as he questions and pleads with her all at once.

She swallows once more, "I want you to."

"Want me to what?" His hands ceased their slow movements once more and she feels like cursing his gentleman nature if just for a hot second.

She didn't know how they got here, with his hands scalding her skin and his nose kissing hers while they sat in his office past midnight, in near darkness as the beginning of a storm brewed outside and the one inside her began to unfurl.

"To let go," she exhales at last, "with me."

"Your rule-"

Donna shakes her head, "Not tonight," she nearly gasps out in a sigh, "not- I want to know what it's like not have it."

She almost laughs at his sudden hesitation, confusion starting to seep into him as he studies her with unwavering perseverance. He doesn't want to screw this up for either of them.

"Harvey,"

"Tell me to stop," he challenges lightly, the fingertips on the inside of her leg inching up at a quicker pace than before, but still not quick enough for her burgeoning need.

She shakes her head again, just slightly and coupled with a breathy "no" that has his hand seeking immediate refuge on the inside of her dress.

Her eyes flutter close for just a fraction of a second, but she still doesn't miss the way his own remain trained on hers, daring to not miss a single moment of this.

"You're not gonna ask me why?" She almost chastises herself for asking him, but his low chuckle encompasses her heart whole and she aches to reach out and meet his lips, but she refrains.

"Why you want my hand up your skirt?"

Her lips twitch to match his light smirk and she feels a freedom in the realization that they can still be them in this moment.

She only hums in response and he gives a half shrug, "Because you want me to."

His hand now lands on the apex of her thigh, and the inhale she takes mingles with his own, tickling her skin with a ghost-like touch.

"And because I know you've been... stressed lately."

"I have not been-" but when his pinky touches the band of her underwear, her eyes close on a subdued whimper.

"You were saying?"

"Asshole," she breathes out, fluttering her eyes open in time to see a smirk playing on his lips.

He grins full and wide then, leaning forward just an inch until his lips barely grazed hers, "You were amazing this week," his fingers softly trace the layer of her panties, mapping out the material he can't see but he guesses to be lace by the ridges and texture he feels, "helping me, us, out with the case."

"Just doing my job, Harv-ey," he groans at the way she extends his name, the word she's spoken too many times catching when he thumbs the front of her panty line, heightening the growing ache between her legs.

"Still," he continues, licking his lips and his tongue barely kisses her own for a fraction of a second before it disappears back in his mouth, "You were- incredible."

This time she doesn't hide the whine that escapes when his fingers find her clothed clit, pressing just slightly against the wetness he finds.

"Harvey," she hates that she's all but begging for him now, but his thick fingers are pressing into her and all she can imagine is how they'd feel buried inside her and she's bucking into him, hoping he'd get the damn hint already.

He finds her gaze in the dark again, mouths still gliding in a feather light touch, agape and breathing each other in without actually kissing. He teases her abdomen with a gentle caress that has her gasping out, before finally sneaking inside.

"Shit, Donna," his eyes close when he finds her wet and warm to the touch, but he doesn't let himself get too lost in the moment because he needs to see her. Needs to see her when she comes undone.

Her mouth is open on a low gasp, eyes hooded and trained on his, and it's all he can do to not reel her in for a bruising kiss. He stands his ground, choosing instead to glide his left hand up to rest on her waist, pulling her slightly closer to him.

Her own hand tightens its hold on his thigh, utilizing her other to grab hold of his bicep, red talons digging in when his thumb grazes her clit for a brief moment.

"Were you like this all day?" His whisper is met by a shaky sigh and she's shaking her head, an insult at the ready on the tip of her tongue, but soon enough his index finger is dipping inside and she's gripping his arm tighter, creating crescent marks on his skin.

"Fuck you."

His eyes darken at her words, and he wedges his finger deeper into her before sliding out again, waning out a low whine from her again. Just as she's about to provide him with another curse, he's sinking in a second digit, slowly enough to allow her to adjust. He finds her tight, but she's wet enough for him to easily glide them inside, pausing until he's able to curve them in a come-hither motion.

He always prided himself in being able to find a woman's erogenous zone, held an airy cockyness to him that allowed him to gain just enough experience to wow his next conquest.

But with Donna... the experience was different. Because she was different. And as he rocks his fingers slowly inside of her, gauging her every gasp and whine between gentle thrust, he found himself skirting toward his own heightened arousal. He shifts on the spot then, feeling his pants tightening at the mere sight of her.

She seems to notice because her lips curl up, and as his fingers twitch inside her, coaxing her toward her own release, she's inching her hand high up his thigh.

"Donna," he ceases his movements by way of warning and she narrow her eyes down to slits.

"I don't get to play?"

"If you're a good girl and let me do this right..." he rocks his fingers faster now, setting his thumb against her bundle of nerves, earning him a low whimper, "I'll let you have your turn."

"Promise?" She gasps.

"Yeah," he sighs, "just enjoy this, okay?"

She only nods, biting her lip at the same time that she grips onto his bicep tighter. That coil in her abdomen twists and tightens, a hot pool of desire settling and rising with every curl and slide he provides.

His left hand inches up to her covered breast, kneading the mass over her dress in time with his thrusts. She's rocking into his hand now, moaning out quiet incoherent pleads that sound a lot like a curse mixed in with his name. His thumb sets a gentle rub against the hood of her clit, not giving in to her need for him to go faster and harder, knowing it was exactly what she wanted, but he couldn't give it to her. Not yet.

"You close?"

It's an ass of a statement, he thinks, when she grits her teeth and her hooded eyes open to send him a glare. He knew she was close, by the way her walls were beginning to contract around him, the way her gasps grew closer in between and her nails dug deeper into his skin.

"Fuck, youuu," her words trail off when he suddenly ups the pace, massaging her bundle of nerves as he continues to pump his fingers into her, matching the erratic breathing she expels, edging her closer still.

"That's it, I got you," his gentle croon is enough to set her off, seizing in his arms as a gasp escapes her lips, finding her release on a low whine.

He continues to gently rock his fingers into her, trying to slowly bring her down to earth. For a moment, there's complete silence in the otherwise empty room, safe for the soft jazz and the rain hitting the windows with a harder force, this time being guided by the gusts of wind whistling by.

"Welcome back," Harvey grins at her when she finally opens her eyes, meeting his gaze that's half illuminated by the few lights left on in the bullpen outside of his office.

She gives him a lazy smile and his forehead falls to meet hers.

"That was-"

"Amazing? Phenomenal?"

The alcohol she smells on his breath only further lightens her euphoric high, and she lets a girlish giggle escape her plump lips. "Something like that."

He hums in a self-satisfied congratulation, sliding his hand out from her underwear. Her eyes watch him with renewed intrigue, pupils growing when she sees his glistening fingers disappearing into his welcoming mouth.

He gives her the beginnings of a cocky grin that's quickly wiped off by her lips on his. The hand that had gripped his bicep found its way to nape of his neck, pulling him forward until her mouth was drowning out his groan of surprise.

Their lips chase each other in a playful game, nipping and pulling, subduing any whine and moan that wanted out. Her tongue meets his in a delicious slide, prompting his hands to grip her waist, tugging her forward until she was half sitting on his lap.

Her hands map out his chest, blindly undoing the few buttons of his vest and shirt to snake her hand inside his chest at the same time she sucks his tongue into her mouth, moaning when she tastes herself on him.

Gone was any intention to prolong her tease, not when she fully straddles him and his hardness protrudes her aching center.

"Donna," he moans into her mouth, softly tugging on her lip before he kisses the curve of her jaw, inching lower until he's sucking on her pulse point.

Her hand finds his clothed member, softly raking her nails over his tented form. She smirks when he bucks into her touch, gasping when he nips at her skin.

"If you leave a mark..." her warning causes him to pull back suddenly, and she almost melts on the spot as his intense gaze meets her. It hits in her full then, how she's straddling her boss and friend in the middle of the night, his hands caressing her waist as he looks up at her with a predatory purpose.

Without breaking their gaze, she pops the button of his slacks, cautiously inching the zipper down and she hides her smirk when his jaw sets at the move.

It's a slow and quick progress, blindly reaching inside his boxers to find him hot and ready for her already.

"Don-" he sighs out her name when she begins a gentle stroke over him, fighting beyond every fiber of his being to keep his eyes open against her caresses.

"I want to taste you," she whispers against his mouth.

His eyes close out of their own violation, her words setting his groin ablaze as all the blood from his brain reaches down to his dick at lightning speed.

"You- do that, shit, and I'm not gonna last very long."

"Hmm," she pouts at him, and he can't help but pull her bottom lip between his teeth, soothing the flesh with his tongue.

"I mean, if you really want to..." his hand inches its way up her thigh, bunching the material of her dress until it rested on her hip, exposing her underwear to him.

Red. Lace.

He internally groans at the sight.

Her laugh turns into a moan when he slides his hand inside again, already knowing he was going to find her sufficiently ready for him.

"You're mean."

He chuckles, pulling her toward him until their lips grazed again, "Whatever you want, Donna."

The redhead licks her lips, studying his features in the dark. She finds nothing beneath the genuine desire to do what makes her happy and the fact alone alights her skin on fire.

"I want..." she nips at his mandible, finding the beginnings of a five o'clock shadow beneath her tongue, "You... inside me."

Harvey groans, low and throaty, enough to reverberate through her with a shiver despite the air around them growing thick.

He parts her underwear to the side, watching her face for any signs of doubt or worry, and it's only when she gives him a reassuring nod does he gently guide her over him.

They let out twin gasps when he's fully sheathed inside, stretching her slowly. He stills just long enough for her to accommodate him, waiting until her walls stop contracting to pull her down for a kiss. Its gentler this time, missing the hurried need from earlier and replaced by a tenderness that still does nothing to dilute their mutual desire.

Donna parts from his lips with one last sweep of her tongue. She plants her hands on his chest and begins a slow ride over him.

His hands remain rooted on her waist, setting back against the black leather as he watches her rising and falling over him. A blinding bright light flashes behind her suddenly, illuminating the room in a momentary glow and he nearly comes undone when he's able to notice her flushed skin, ivory against sun kissed golden flecks.

He sighs then, tugging her gently until her lips are hovering over his. Their breaths mingle between each slow thrust, elongating the pleasure that builds inside each of them, stretching them to the brink before reeling them back in.

His lips find her neck again, needing to greet each freckle with a sweep of the tongue.

"Harvey..." she's panting against him now, feeling that familiar constriction in her groin, and she's slamming down onto him with a new purpose. His hand settles low against abdomen, providing a gentle guide that has her biting her lip when he pulls back to watch her unwind.

"Yeah, that's it," his gentle press makes her gasp out a whine, tightening her hold on his dress shirt. She wonders then how the hell it took them so damn long to do this again because fuck, if the feeling of him deliciously hard inside of her wasn't getting her off, his words and intense gaze would've sealed the deal.

His fingers find residence between her legs again, finding her bundle of nerves without trouble, coaxing her toward her second release.

Donna rides him harder then, leaning forward to gasp alongside him as his fingers work their magic on her, and she's coming on her next breath, body arching and spilling out a string of expletives that mixes with his name.

Not two thrusts later he's coming inside her, grunting out a throaty "fuck, Donna"that he's more than sure spurs her third release.

She collapses onto him with a chuckle, one he's sure is only prompted by how delirious she feels.

His lips find her neck immediately, nipping her skin languidly, breathing in the vanilla of her body wash that now lingered with sex from their recent love-making.

"You good?" Harvey mumbles into her skin, kissing her one last time.

He's met by a muffled hum, and it only makes him tighten his hold on her, hugging her closer to him still.

Thunder rolls in the distance and it's then that she realizes that somewhere between her first and second orgasm, his jazz record stopped playing and they were now bathed in complete silence- lest for the growing storm outside.

She raises her head from him, and he fights against the disappointment when he notices her frown lines meeting him. He knew this was supposed to be a one-night deal. Forget what it was like to not have her rule in place just long enough for them to have a night of fun.

But still.

"You okay?" He dares to ask anyway, because she was still his best friend and she still looked upset and his heart could never take a sight that wasn't her smiling.

She sighs, "I really don't have the energy to go home right now."

He waits a beat, studying her features before he lets out a full laugh, disrupting their otherwise quiet night. She follows suit then, his laughter a contagious sweep of emotions she never doesn't want to fall victim to.

"You're beautiful."

She stills, watching how he eyes her in a softness that juxtaposes the very act of what they just did. She tries to settle her heart, but he's looking at her like she never allowed herself to believe he would.

Like a man in love.

"I can't believe we just had sex on your couch. At work."

"Hmm," his hands trail up her back, coaxing her forward to peck her lips. "Good thing no one else is around."

"Because that would've been an interesting conversation to have with whoever walked in."

"Yeah, exhibitionism isn't really my thing."

She hums, sliding her hand up to play with tie, "What is... your thing?"

"You."

Her breath hitches at his admission. It shouldn't have set her off her game, should've paled in comparison to their recent endeavors. But reality is starting to sink in and he's still inside her and suddenly her mind is fogging up her conscious. The alcohol that remains in her system doing nothing to help.

"Harvey-"

"I know. I know... you only said one night."

She sighs, "It's just-"

"It's okay," he reassures too quickly for her to believe that it was okay.

"Harvey-"

"Donna, I just want you to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted. Ever needed."

She curses the way his eyes bore into her own, making the tears prickling sting her eyes and she's expelling a low sigh against him.

"So you're saying... if I said I wanted to forget this ever happened again..."

She thinks a flash of something akin to disappointment passes through his eyes, but it disappears just as quickly. "Then I'll do what I did last time. I won't mention it and- we'll keep being us."

An us that entailed hidden meanings and words unspoken and suppressed feelings that gave rise to too many bitter arguments.

Donna heaves out a deeper breath, almost as if braving herself for her next words. "And what if... I said I didn't?"

He furrows his brow, "Didn't?"

She bites her lip in an uncharacteristically nervous gesture, "Didn't forget. Didn't keep this-" she motions between them, "just for tonight."

He's silent for a moment, face stoic and void of any emotions. It frustrates her. Sets her heart racing and builds a slow doubt in her veins.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

He nods, and he quirks his lips at her confused tilt of the head.

"I didn't actually say anything, you know. My question was strictly hypothetical."

His eyes narrow at her and she fights against the urge to slap her hand against his chest, for being the cocky and overzealous asshole that he was.

"Well, then I'm hypothetically saying I'd be okay with it."

Donna purses her lips to hide the grin that threatens to spill out and he's suddenly giving her that boyish smirk she wishes to wipe off with her mouth. But she doesn't. She'll make him squirm.

She slides off his lap then, making him crease his forehead in confusion again as he watches her fix her dress before him, standing on near wobbly legs as she tries to rein in some semblance of clarity and control.

She raises her eyebrows at him, and he's quickly scrambling to tuck himself back in his pants, zipping up before he's standing to meet her.

"Donna,"

The rest of his thought process dies on the tip of his tongue as he stares down at her, eyes nearly glistening and filled to the brim with emotions only an after-glow could provide.

"I don't want to forget."

She tilts her chin up at him, almost challenging in her gaze, despite being a few inches shorter than him, even in her heels.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

She smirks when their words mirror the ones they shared a mere minute earlier, affording him with a nod as she swivels around him to stand near his door.

She's like a siren, pulling him in with her mere presence, his legs guiding him toward her without a second thought. "Just like that?"

Donna cocks her head to the side, "Did you want a speech?"

He smirks, "I'm just a little-"

"I know," comes her gentle understanding. She reaches out to him then, touching his arm gently.

He feels himself growing dizzy, a mixture of a post-drunken and orgasmic daze looming over him that mixes with a week's worth of missed sleep, rendering him without a coherent thought.

"Come on," he says at last, finding his hand on her lower back, "I'll take you home."

She lifts an eyebrow at him.

"I'll call Ray," he corrects.

She smirks, "Okay." Not bothering to berate him for having his driver at the ready whenever he needed him.

"So..." she starts when they're in the elevator, a light awkwardness surrounding them.

He lifts his gaze to her in question, and she takes the initiative to step into his space, fixing the few buttons he left untouched.

"You never did tell me if that was a date."

He grins at her, full and wide, a boyish glee that's soon matched by her own joy that spills out.

"No, Donna. That was only the beginning."

…

Is it cool that I said all that
Is it too soon to do this yet?
'Cause I know that it's delicate