Harvey knocks the bottle of Macallan, barely registering as it rolls clanging into the display unit behind him. He could give a shit and fumblingly adjusts his back stretching his legs out over the office floor. Where he passes out doesn't matter and he welcomes the release as darkness washes over him bringing with it visions of red golden hair and the sweet dulcet tones of Donna's voice. The descent is slow, the smell of vanilla almost tangible as her warmth drapes around him and even though it isn't real he reaches out teasing the sensuous curve of her mouth with his lips. It hurts like hell, in a place that's beyond imaginable, but he doesn't stop until a sudden slap stings across his cheek shattering the illusion.

"Harvey! What the hell are you doing?"

His gaze snaps open his hand instantly moving to rub his jaw but it goes slack when his eyes fall on the women crouched in front of him.

On Donna.

Confusion renders his explanation silent, the stale smell of alcohol and the mess surrounding him proof that the encounter with Mike really happened. Either he's gone certifiably crazy or someone fucked up big time because the pain ebbing through his cheek doesn't feel like a hallucination.

"Harvey?" Donna frowns at the skittish look spread across his face. Obviously he's drunk but the fear in his expression doesn't line up with the kiss that just landed on her and something uneasy knots in her stomach. "What's wrong? You look like you've just seen a ghost."

The cliche doesn't resonate. He's still in a state of a shock that quickly morphs into anger firing out in full swing, "what's wrong!?" His arm jerks fanning around the destroyed office, "are you fucking kidding me? Where the hell were you, why didn't you call?"

She's startled by the aggression and falls back on her heels taking a moment to read him. He's a mess; shirt half-undone, hair all over the place and his eye's are red-raw. She can't remember ever seeing him like this and bites her lip, worry washing over the lingering taste of him. "I was out with friends and someone stole my purse. I'm sorry, If I'd known something was wrong..." she trails off, the apology less important than her growing concern, "Harvey, what happened?"

Purse stolen.

The explanation echoes in the most sober part of his brain.

She had her ID stolen.

The pieces assemble with a jarring force and he slips in his attempt to push up, the affect of alcohol clouding his coordination. Whoever stole her belongings is the one lying cold and prone on a slab somewhere -not her- and he crushes her to his chest, relief tangling wildly around his emotions. He thought he'd lost her and squeezes her shoulders tightly, a burst of hot air leaving his mouth in a rush, "thank god you're okay."

She feels the heat against her neck, the desperation coupling with the stale smell of scotch but if anything she's even more confused. His behavior doesn't make any sense and after a moment indulging him she disentangles herself, fingers locking at his elbows to keep a bridge between them. "Harvey is it... did some nothing happen to your mother? Marcus is he okay, the kids-"

"They're fine." It comes out bluntly and he knows it isn't fair but the insinuation that anyone else could turn his world on its axis grates against his nerves. She's supposed to know that she means more, that he broke like this because of her, but the anger falls away under the weight of her concerned gaze. It wasn't her fault. If anything it was his for not telling her how he felt sooner. "There was an accident," he explains, swallowing the heaviness resting in his mouth, "they found your ID at the scene and we thought... I, thought that-" he stops, shakes his head and flattens his palms over his trousers. It was the worst two hours of his life and he doesn't want to relive it. She can see the destruction for herself and he ducks his head trying to hide the sudden rush of embarrassment flushing his face.

"Oh my god." Donna lifts her hand smothering a small gasp as the realisation dawns; he thought something had happened to her. The guilt sets in as she glances around their surroundings taking in the mess of files, broken glass and displaced basketballs. It's all a direct result of his reaction and something pulls deep inside her stomach. "Harvey, I had no idea... I'm so sorry." The apology doesn't fit like it should. Even though she had no control over what happened he seems disinterested in the words, his body still tense as he uses the display cabinet to lift himself up.

"I need to call Mike." He forces out, starting a haphazard search for his phone.

He's not in the least surprised when Donna finds it first. She wasn't the one who tried to completely annihilate herself on scotch and he takes the device hesitation driving him to a standstill. He's torn between wanting to pour out everything he's feeling and the need to place distance between them until he can sort out his emotions but there's one thing that can't wait, Mike, and he brings the phone to his ear turning away from her to make the call.

She listens to the conversation feeling detached as relief carries Harvey's hushed tone down the line. A few moments ago, somewhere out there, Mike thought she was gone and she flinches wondering who else still thinks the same; her parents, her sister, Louis, Rachel? How many other people had she inadvertently hurt tonight? It isn't fair to blame herself but the way Harvey's voice cracks when he says she's safe stabs painfully through her chest and when he hangs up she risks moving in closer, her hand closing tentatively over his shoulder.

He turns into the warmth slipping the phone away as he inhales deeply, breathing in her presence. He doesn't know what he's supposed to say or how he's supposed to reconcile with everything that's happened. There's an expectancy in her gaze that he can't answer and he shifts awkwardly as the inadequacy stretches between them. One thing he does know is that he doesn't want to be ever be here again, plagued by regret because he can't admit one simple truth; that she means everything and without her he's completely and utterly lost. Maybe he can't say it but the desire to is so strong it pulses through him urging his palm up to the side of her cheek. She stills at the contact but the gentle warning on her lips doesn't stop the light trace of his thumb.

He wants more

In a moment of clarity it becomes as simple as that.

He wants everything he just lost and in a split second decision descends on her mouth taking in the sugary taste of passion fruit as it mixes with the woody Macallan on his breath. The kiss is different than the last time, heated with a slow burning desire, and a growl rumbles through his chest when she responds moving her lips against his. The consent is intoxicating but not as much as the encouraging whimper she lets escape as he pulls her flush against his body. The sound is almost enough to ruin him but a foreign noise inserts itself over their laboured breathing resonating with the only part of his brain still functioning. It's a gasp from somewhere behind them and before he can fully comprehend what's happening Donna shoots out of his arms launching rapidly away from him.

When he realises why an irritated sigh works from his mouth.

Mike and his goddamn fucking best of intentions.

Rachel is stood in the doorway her expression white with shock but something aligned with gratitude quickly replaces his frustration. In all the ways that matter they're a family and he closes in on the embrace, shoving his hands deep in his pockets as the two women separate.

Rachel glances between them embarrassment swarming her cheeks as she stumbles over her confusion. "Mike said... I don't understand, how?"

Harvey lets Donna field the question taking the opportunity to politely remove himself from the explanation. Maybe it's selfish but he needs a moment and heads towards the one place he knows he shouldn't go, her office.

It hits him as he walks in.

The precise placement of everything sat neatly on her desk rams home a different reality, one where he's forced to disturb the personal items and remove her from his life piece by piece. It didn't happen but it could have and he leans heavily over the desk taking in a sobering breath. It could be minutes or hours that he stands there... thanking every deity he can and letting the need to be honest with her cement in his mind.

They cant keep doing this, he cant.

"Harvey"

Her voice startles him but he doesn't let on straightening his body in the darkness. "You trying to kill me now?" He asks, the inflection and sarcasm clear as he turns to face her.

"That's not funny" She deadpans holding her arms over her chest. After a beat of silence he moves to where a bottle of scotch is tucked neatly away and even though she could use some herself a sudden flash of him sprawled out barely conscious vanishes the urge. "You know that's not going to help."

His steps are heavy as he rounds the desk to stand in front of her. For once he doesn't want to drink. He's had more than enough tonight and flicks the bottle towards where Rachel has been left waiting. "It's not for me."

She reads the unspoken meaning and opens her mouth but words don't follow. She hates that she put everyone through such a traumatic experience, the weight of guilt landing suddenly and bringing with it a swell of unshed tears. She feels stupid, even more so when his hand brushes her shoulder but she accepts the comfort stepping into his embrace.

His hand winds down in response stroking her back soothingly and he inhales deeply as her body moulds against his. "Donna..." he exhales slowly, almost hesitantly, "I need to ask you something and I need you to be honest with me."

She stiffens at the note of seriousness catching his voice. Part of her doesn't want to acknowledge it but this isn't just harmless touching or flirting. A few moments ago he was kissing her and she returns the distance between them mentally preparing herself for the line to be drawn under his show of emotions.

He reads the instant regret pooling in her eyes and the reaction makes him feel nauseous. He's pushed her away so many times it isn't any wonder she expects the same now but after twelve years of hesitation he's determined to get the words out and swallows the fear lodged in his throat, "did you feel something when I kissed you?"

Her brow lifts in confusion, the weight of the question hanging awkwardly between them. They don't do direct or at least he doesn't, not unless he's being driven by something else, and she can't afford to let her own vulnerability act as a distraction. "I don't think now is the right time to-"

"Donna" he stops her, fighting a rush of nerves as his fingers lift to the curve of her hips. If he wants this he's going to have to put just as much on the line and his voice wavers as he holds her gaze, "please, I need to know."

She ins't sure what undoes her the light touch or his gentle begging but her defenses quickly fold because either way, she lied to him. The last time they were in this situation he had someone else and admitting the truth would have broken them but it's different now. There's no excuses and she glances down at his hand, the gesture reassuring, and she surprises herself by taking a leap of faith. "I felt something Harvey."

The admittance is raw, honest, and his arms slide further around her waist in relief. "Good." Her head jerks up, eyes wide with uncertainty, and he can't help smiling as he pulls her closer. "So did I."

Warmth floods his gaze and her heart hammers faster in response, her mind spinning from the dramatic shift. She never thought they'd find their way here least of all under the nights bizarre circumstances but his smile doesn't falter as he dips his head.

"I think we should probably talk about this, us-" he says, indicating with a nod over her shoulder, "but you're right, maybe now isn't the best time."

She closes her eyes remembering Rachel is still in his office, the brief disappointment mixing with a rush of nervous excitement. She doesn't known which scares her more; that he might change his mind in the morning or that he won't.

He catches the tight pull of her expression and the rare occurrence drives his hand up to curl over shoulder. Despite his cockiness she's usually the one in control and he moves the hair back from her face brushing it aside with a smooth voice, "I'm telling you this Donna because I don't want to go back to how things were between us. I can't, not this time."

She can hear the seriousness in his tone. The one he solemnly uses except to give his word to a close friend or client and she relaxes, her lips mirroring the curve of his soft smile. They're both taking a risk, especially given the circumstances, but maybe it was the final push they both needed. "You know..." she sighs contently, finding her confidence in the dim light, "relationships that start under intense circumstances... they never last."

He recognises the movie line and amusement creeps into his gaze, though he's somewhat offended she would consider it a classic. "You did not just quote Speed at me."

She blushes at the easiness between them, the comfort that has fallen into place and rests a light pressure against his hand steering them back to reality. "We should find Rachel."

He nods in agreement his touch lingering as she moves out of his arms. He almost lost her tonight, lost something he didn't have to begin with and he was right; he's never coming back from that. It's woven into his core, knocking his life into a completely different direction.

It's a new beginning and he's not going to waste a single second of it.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ* :･ﾟ:･ﾟ

AN: That's it for this one! Thanks for all the reviews :D I got an idea for a looooooong multi chapter fic yesterday so I might be away brain storming for a bit. I've decided there need to be more drama/action plots in Suits :P