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Prompt by Nikka (nikkaquejano): Harvey and Donna attend Lily's art exhibit and everyone thinks they are a couple, so they end up pretending to be together
Story by: Etty ( u/9812331/graystephen93)
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Harvey has noticed a shift lately. A change in dynamic between him and Donna. And a damn good one, for once.
They've been going out for drinks more often. Late night ones after work, when they both want to go home but don't want to part ways just yet. He's been getting better at complimenting her too. He doesn't even need the alcohol anymore. Whether it's her outfit, her hair, her laugh or her smile. He doesn't keep it to himself. Often using humour for delivery, but she knows he means it. And she's getting better at accepting his flattery also. But he still strives to make her blush, glance down at her feet, maybe even have to pin a fallen lock of hair back behind her ear as she looks back up with a bubbly grin.
Yeah, that's the kind of shit Harvey Specter lives for these days.
Meanwhile, Donna is enjoying the rekindled closeness. And feeling as though there's absolutely nobody about to take her place. Because she sees the way he looks at her now, which is the same way he always has. She's enjoying feeling like it's okay to straighten his ties again - unaware that he purposely loosens them, just enough for her to notice, right before he gets off on the fiftieth floor most mornings. She's loving being able to linger about longer than necessary, hands slowly falling down his chest after he's all fixed up, both pretending to be purely focused on whatever it is they're talking about. Even though it's usually just shameless flirting anyway.
Without doubt, there's something in the air. He's brought up the other time more times in the last few weeks, than he has in the last thirteen ("twelve and a half") years. So much so, that they no longer say it in that taboo sort of tone anymore. And she no longer scolds him for mentioning it, either. She'll nod, maybe even laugh, sometimes recall certain memories of that night, and those days, herself. And then he'll always take it that little bit further until her smirking eyes are telling him he's an idiot, in that way that makes him want to be an idiot, because she loves him being an idiot.
Yeah, when she thinks about it, they might as well be right back at the DA's office.
But neither have voiced a damn thing about it. About what it all means. Touching and titillation can only go on for so long before something gives. And they both want it to give in the right way. But he told her he didn't want more and she said she didn't feel anything.
So then what the hell was all this?
.
It's not until his mother calls out of the blue at work one day that he's forced to answer that question. Maybe even act on it.
"Oh, and these things can be boring for guys like you," Lily says, just before it's time to hang up. "So don't hesitate to bring someone along with you."
She sounds nonchalant and Harvey thinks nothing of it. However, they both have the same guest in mind.
"I don't think that'll be necessary."
"Someone special.." she continues, as if he hadn't just declined, her voice all hinting and hopeful.
"Mom.."
Harvey rolls his eyes slowly. She couldn't be less subtle if she held up a giant sign saying 'ask Donna'. But then again, he doesn't even think she's trying to be discreet.
He doesn't know that she knows her by name thanks to Marcus and Gordon through the years. Nor that she knows it's his COO he more than likely has these special feelings for. But he does know that she's eager to meet the woman who persuaded him to patch things up with her once and for all.
"Don't mom me, you still haven't introduced her you know."
Harvey frowns. She's right. He's known her all these years and she's still never formally met his family. It doesn't feel right. And he knows exactly why.
"That's because she's not my girlfriend."
Lily doesn't even need a second to respond. "You sound disappointed."
"Mom." His tone is final. He knows it'll do the trick.
"Fine," she reluctantly relents. "But the offer still stands."
He shakes his head and makes sure she detects every ounce of his sarcasm. "Good to know."
"See you Saturday, son."
"See you then."
Harvey puts his phone back inside his pocket and stares out of his office window, frowning in thought as he stands there, weighing up his options. Wondering if asking her would be a good idea or not. Because bringing her isn't the issue.
"Penny for your thoughts?"
That soft, curious voice has him spin around on the spot, both his brows and interest raised.
God, she's beautiful.
Harvey recovers well enough for someone so in awe.
"I'm more expensive than that."
She tilts her head and smiles in amusement. She finds him extra funny lately.
"Don't I know it, Mr. Billables."
He laughs quietly before meeting her stare again.
"You know my services are always free for you."
He's flirting, but she can hear in his voice and see behind his eyes that there's something on his mind. So she steers them back to her initial query.
"And what about your thoughts?"
Harvey doesn't answer, so she steps closer until she's standing at the window with him.
"Was that your mother?"
It's not really a question because she knows, but he answers anyway.
"It was."
"Is everything okay?"
"Absolutely fine," he smiles gently, appreciative of her concern. "She has a student art exhibit back home this Saturday. She asked me to go."
Donna beams, her heart warming at the news.
"And I hope you said yes?"
She sits down on the high ledge then, staring up at him with a pointed brow and endearingly crooked smirk as he peers down at her.
"I did."
Her eyes fill with pride. "Good."
Harvey just nods back, the clatter of noise inside his head silencing him.
Ask her, you idiot.
"I guess I'll have to find a new drinking partner this weekend then," she jests with a light-hearted sigh, pretending to take interest in some silver window ornament she's fiddling with.
But she feels awkward afterwards, hoping that he didn't pick up on her hinting, desperately wanting to take it back already.
He's sure he's about to ask her the right question until the wrong reply falls off his recreant tongue.
"As long as you have a drink for me."
He feels like he's back in highschool, fucking up the first time he really tried to ask a girl out. He was fourteen. Her name was Lucy, and she was the innocent beginning of his womanising ways.
He feels like Donna could be the inevitable end.
"More than one I'm sure," she smiles rather tensely.
Donna can't even remember what she stopped by for now. She always used to have good reason to come by his office, but lately it's just an excuse for her to be near him. Using something work-related that he'd nod and agree to before changing the subject just so she would stay with him that little bit longer.
But now, for the first time in a long time, she just wants to leave. Feeling vulnerable after what felt like an obvious rejection. She even considers name-dropping this guy who asked her out last week. Louis' client. Tim. Or Thomas or something. But ultimately decides against it. It's not her style. No matter how much she feels like reminding him that she's desired by others - as if that fact could ever slip a man with two functioning retinas.
She wants him to know that whatever it is they're playing, she's not going to participate forever. But she just pushes that down and nods with a genuine smile as she stands, locking eyes.
"Well I hope you have a good time catching up with your mother."
Harvey smiles back, and then she's starting to walk out.
He's internally debating with himself. A loud, nagging voice telling him to man the hell up. But another self-doubting one telling him it's too much like a date. She'll know. And he still doesn't know if that's what she wants. If all this flirt in recent weeks has been unrequited on a deeper level.
But she's almost out the door and he can't stand the idea of her drinking with somebody else this weekend. Especially if that somebody else has a dick. He remembers exactly what she was like in the bedroom, after all. And she was damn right when she said he wouldn't want to share.
"Donna."
She twists back around immediately, brows heightened in wait. His hands are in his pockets and his heart is in his mouth. But his face won't tell her that.
"Why don't you give your liver a break this weekend and come see some art with me?"
He steps closer to shorten the few feet of unbearable distance she had just made. She faces him fully then, hands lightly linked over her abdomen.
"Harvey Specter, are you asking me to crash a date with your mother?"
No, I'm asking you on a date.
"She likes to talk, and you love to talk so.."
"You thought I'd be a good distraction for when she starts asking you about your life?"
"Sure," he lies.
Donna shakes her head, trying to look unimpressed, but her badly bottled grin betrays her. Harvey anxiously eyes her as she considers his offer - or at least pretends that she has to.
"I suppose my liver wouldn't object."
"Is that a yes?" He's not taking any chances.
And she's more than eager to meet the famous Lily Specter. "It's a yes."
He just about refrains from responding with it's a date. But he isn't as successful at suppressing his excitement. She sees it in every wrinkle and it makes her stomach flip.
"We can fly out that afternoon."
"Great," she nods, pressing her lips together.
"Great."
Her lower lip hangs a bit, a nervous smirk etched in her face. Both of them unsure how to end the conversation. She's just noticed how close he's standing, too. Wonders if the room was this humid when she first walked in. She decides that it wasn't.
"I better..."
Her eyes fall to his lips as he ogles her in return, forgetting her words because of him and his dangerously close proximity.
He notices, and his face doesn't hide how satisfied it makes him.
"Get back to work?" he teases.
The only thing either of them want to get back to is one night, twelve and a half years ago. Take two in the file room. But neither are brave enough to make it too obvious. Even though any passerby could take one glance inside his office and come to one conclusion; they're either screwing, or thinking about screwing.
"Yeah," she blinks slowly, before snapping out of thought. "I've a ton of paperwork work to do, so I guess I'll see you later?"
She realises she posed it as a question and hopes it didn't sound needy.
"I guess you will."
He reluctantly watches her leave. Eyes that she can feel, trained on her the whole way down the corridor. Bright hair, baby blue dress. Hips that could turn any head. And legs that stretch for miles.
Harvey can hardly wait for Saturday.
…
And Saturday could hardly wait for them, it seemed.
The work week flew by and before they knew it they had landed in Boston for Lily's art exhibition.
Harvey hops out of the hired Lexus and dashes over to Donna's side of the car. To do the gentlemanly thing, of course. Which she has to tease him for, of course.
"Is all this chivalry just so I won't talk shit about you to your mother?" she jokes as she stands opposite him, the door the only thing between them.
"When have I not opened a car door for you, Donna?"
He's right.
"Doesn't mean you don't have intentions, this time."
She watches his chest swell up like a bird about to burst into song. His nostrils flaring in that way that tells her she's in for a show from smug Harvey.
"Oh," he says, subconsciously licking his lips. "I have intentions alright."
His relentless repartee has her staring up at him in silence, an almost undetectable shade of rose setting under her pale complexion.
Once he notices how affected she is - in all the ways he wants her to be - he leans in, lips almost grazing the smooth strands of honey falling over her ear as his eyes scan the busy street, without taking in the view.
"None quite as innocent as you think."
His change in tone has her blush come right through and she feels it burn under her cheeks before travelling down the rest of her body. All the way south.
She steps back and he slams the door shut, confidently extending his left elbow in her direction. She looks down at the gesture, then back up to him. Her smirk enlarging as her hand latches on and she feels him pull her ever so slightly closer.
He's not entirely sure what he's doing. Walking into his mother's exhibit with the special someone on his arm. But it doesn't unnerve him as much as it feels like it should. It just feels right.
They enter the building and he feels her let go once they're inside, surrounded by people. He tries not to overthink it. But clearly she's not as comfortable engaging in such public affections with so many eyes around. And why should she be.
Upon first glance, their eyes meet canvas and clay and everything in between. Endless artwork decorating the blank walls, and exhibited on display tables.
Donna already loves it. The colours, the creativity, the crowds. He wishes he could just admire her all evening instead.
She notices him gaze around the room as they make their way inward, eyes dipping through dispersed and clustered bodies of people, the room buzzing with noise and chatter. He had always expected these things to be more silent than a morgue. He wonders if it's his mother's influence, or the youth. Or both.
"Nervous?"
He looks to his right, meeting her curious expression with an unconvincing one.
"No."
She points her left brow at him and her smirk extends with it. He shifts a bit, looking around again. He really wasn't nervous - before he got inside that was.
"Hey," she whispers, bringing him back with her gentle tone and even gentler touch, fingers meeting forearm. "It'll be fine. You two made up, remember?"
If only he could tell her the real reason he's anxious about seeing his mother right now.
He wants to hold her hand when the comforting pads of her fingers graze his wrist and then palm. But that would be ridiculous. So he just mimics her sweet ass smile instead, soon forgetting where he is, lost in vibrant hazel which is transfixed by dark umber.
"Harvey!"
Both jump slightly, Donna's hand darting back to her side, but Lily had already caught it.
"Mom," he greets, meeting her for a hug. "Good to see you."
"I'm so glad you're here," she beams, squeezing him tight.
They part warmly and he gives her a soft, reassuring smile.
"Where else would I be?"
Lily returns the expression for a moment. And then can't resist ogling his guest.
"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend here?"
Harvey ignores the emphasis and puts his hand behind the redhead's back, without touching her.
"This is Donna."
He could elaborate, but 'work colleague' is too formal, not them. And he doesn't feel like ruining his own game with 'friend'.
"Donna Paulsen," the redhead beams, extending her hand. "Nice to finally meet you."
Harvey can see that Lily already likes his special guest.
"And you. I've heard plenty."
He swears he can hear a hint of playfulness in their voices, but he doesn't dwell.
"Oh really?" Donna purrs, hand falling back to her side, teasing Harvey with a glance.
"No, not from him," Lily scoffs. "I'd sooner get blood from a stone."
"Then who?" he frowns.
"Your father, of course."
Donna already knew before Lily had answered Harvey's question, but the confirmation has her smiling bashfully anyway. Memories of Gordon phoning for his son, but staying for her, flooding right back. He'd chat about everything and anything. But mostly his kids. And his music. And he loved that Donna was a theater geek. She'd fit right in with their artsy clan, he used to think to himself.
Harvey eyeballs her then, interrupting her fond memories, a hint of pride about him.
"He was even more of a chatterbox than me," Donna recalls, trying not to make a big deal of it.
"No." Harvey presses his lips together with a sincere smile before continuing. "He really liked you."
Lily watches on in delight as the pair share something more than just regular, friendly eye contact.
"He's right," she says a moment later. "Gordon wasn't big on phone calls."
"Always said they were too much of an excuse not to meet in person," Harvey adds in his father's tone.
The three of them share a laugh, remembering the man they had all loved in some way or another.
"So," Harvey smiles at his mother, "are you gonna show us around or not?"
.
Lily escorts them around the exhibit she'd spent the last few months preparing for, pointing out her students' artwork as they walk at a steady pace. Harvey watches her more so than the various paintings and sculptures that she's explaining to them. She's so content and passionate when she talks about art. It reminds him of something. Someone.
Theater, and Donna.
His eyes trail to his unofficial date who's smiling and nodding along in admiration of all the work. His heart fills with a different kind of feeling entirely then. A different kind of love.
He knows he's staring now but he can't help it, a soft smile cracking at the corners of his mouth. As much as he hates sharing her with the world, he thinks she's the only thing worth showing off in this place.
But then he notices something out of the corner of his eye. Something that could runner-up to Donna in that department.
He frowns at the canvas that's caught his attention, then removes himself and strides a few feet over to the furthest corner of the room to where it's on display.
Lily and Donna share a knowing grin, anticipation in their eyes as he walks away.
Surely he must be seeing things. It could pass for the real thing. But it can't be. Elliott Stemple made sure of that.
He's completely lost for a reaction as he takes it in up close. Until he feels her approaching, soon standing tall by his left.
"It looks the exact same," he mutters in astonishment, his gaze fixed on the unique piece.
"That's because it is."
Harvey turns his head, meeting her sweet, trademark smirk with a baffled brow.
"That's impossible."
"I'm sorry, I don't know what that means?" Donna toys, hands clasped at her abdomen as she tilts her head up in his direction.
Harvey looks to his mother's painting after thinking he'd never see it again, then back to her.
"How?"
"Well, I don't want to ruin the mystery... but I've been working on tracking it down for weeks now." She shifts so that her body is facing him now too. "And when you asked me to come along, I thought it would be the perfect way to surprise you with it."
He takes in the small 'sold' notice on the wall just under the canvas. More than likely there so nobody would enquire about it.
"So you and my mother have been in cahoots all this time?"
"Maybe."
He shakes his head lightly, in awe more than anything else. He looks at her then, sending her his gratitude with both eyes and smile. Then tongue.
"Thank you, Donna."
He rests his right hand on her forearm, just above her wrist, and she feels the warmth seep from sleeve to skin.
"Merry Christmas, Harvey."
After seconds that feel like minutes, they both start to feel as if those blurry lines of theirs are becoming transparent altogether.
When it leaves them mute for too long, she clears her throat to disrupt the moment.
"I know it's a week early." She gazes at the painting again. "But I figured this would be more fun than just wrapping it and sending it to you."
He lets his hand fall back to his side. She watches as his impressed grin morphs to one of minor concern.
"How is my gift supposed to top this?"
Her forehead creases in disbelief. "You've actually picked out a gift yourself?"
"I sure have."
His lips press together, nostrils flaring with self-satisfaction. Both at managing to surprise her, and for actually thinking of the gift himself.
"Who are you and what have you done with my friend?"
"Your friend, huh?" he blurts, surprising them both.
"What else should I call you?" she all but whispers back, slowly blinking up at him, an intentional hint of allure in her voice.
"How about…"
He steps closer, almost touching now. She watches his mouth part, no doubt about to utter something charming and flirtatious, probably even inappropriate, when-
"Harvey Specter!"
The pair are interrupted by a booming voice, echoing throughout the large space. They peer over their shoulders, Donna just about catching the subtle distaste in Harvey's expression before they both turn around to smile at the approaching couple.
"Greg?"
"You bet," the man grins, pulling an unenthused Harvey in for a hug and patting him on the back.
When they release, Harvey's focus shifts to the incredibly familiar looking woman standing next to his other blast from the past.
"Oh, sorry, where are my manners?" Greg laughs, and Harvey remembers one of his least favourite sounds. "This is my wife. You remember Lucy?"
"Lucy. Yes of course." Harvey sends her a genuine smile and moves forward for a quick hug and hello.
One word enters Donna's mind.
History.
She's not jealous. But she's not unbothered, either. She's an attractive woman. Eyes as dark as her wavy hair. Tall, tanned and curvy.
But Harvey's back by her side in no time at all, hand swooping behind her back. Touching this time.
"This is Donna-"
"Donna," Greg interrupts, unashamedly glancing her up and down, having Harvey's fists tense along with his jaw. "Nice to meet you."
Donna smiles back, but she doesn't like him. It makes Harvey smirk a little bit. They always seem to dislike the same people.
Accepting his handshake, she sends him a noticeably forced smile.
"So I've heard."
Harvey watches Greg hold on for longer than he needs to. He shouldn't be bothered. The man is married, and even if he wasn't, Donna would never. But this asshole was even more of a promising philanderer than he was through late adolescence and he can see that he hasn't changed. He doesn't think him worthy to meet Donna, let alone shake her hand.
"Can't say I ever thought the Harvey Specter would actually settle down with somebody," he continues, condescending as ever, before eyeing Donna again. "But now that I've seen you..."
Donna heightens her brows, her bottom lip falling, trying her best to summon a verbal response but having to look to Harvey for help when nothing comes out.
"Oh.. I'm sorry, I just assumed," Greg says, judging the panicked pair's reaction. "I guess I was right about you after all!"
His patronising laughter ignites something inside Donna and before she knows it, she has decided to do what she insists she never does; lie.
"No," she replies, before Harvey has the chance to respond. "You were wrong about him." Her protective tone doesn't go unmissed by the man she's defending. "We are together."
She sends Harvey a playful smile, telling him to join in. He lightly bites his bottom lip when something akin to excitement builds inside him. He can't resist. He faces the couple again, chest puffed.
"Just about thirteen years now."
His hand finds hers in no time at all and she feels a warmth like no other when he gives it a tight squeeze. Fingers fully linked, even more intimately than that night in his office over a year ago now.
He feels her free palm on his chest next, her body touching his side as she speaks in a feigned tone of blissful domesticity.
"More like twelve and a half, sweetie."
"Feels like twenty-five," he grins, sending her a doting smile that knots her abdomen as firm fingers tightening around her waist send electric shivers up the length of her spine, "honey."
They almost forget they're being watched until their ogling is cut short by further questioning.
"I don't see a ring?" Lucy pries, her intrusive smile having Donna's blood begin to boil.
"We're both just so busy," Harvey inhales without hesitation, looking to Donna, his next words having her gape up at him with widened eyes. "And we know that we love each other...so we figured there was no rush."
"Yeah," she breathes, gathering herself and looking back to both Greg and Lucy. "We like to take our time, for sure."
Harvey tampers down a chuckle at her obvious dig, however half-hearted it was.
"No kids?" Greg asks.
"I didn't feel like sharing her with any screaming rugrats," Harvey jokes, only looking at the other two this time. "Just yet."
Donna tries her best not to let anything show but she's caught off guard at how seriously he's committing himself to the role. She's supposed to be the more passionate performer.
"Well, you two seem happy regardless," Lucy nods.
"We are," they both agree in accidental unison.
"If only the rest of the guys could see you now," Greg laughs.
Harvey focuses on Donna again, thumb stroking her palm with sobering eyes.
"They'd wonder how on earth I got so lucky."
"I didn't do too bad myself," she replies more quietly, only thinking about him now.
Neither are sure what the hell they're doing, but they are sure that this has to be more than just harmless roleplay. It makes no sense otherwise. This isn't what they do. Not to this extent.
The married couple finish their inquisition and say their goodbyes soon after, disappearing into the mingling crowd and leaving the fake couple alone once more. Still embracing. Still smiling at each other. Still looking like a real couple.
Something unsettles Donna soon enough and she snaps back to reality. Hand gliding down his chest, her other wriggling out of his, now clammy. Soon shifting back to her previous spot a safe foot away.
Harvey clears his throat, also lost for an appropriate conversation starter.
She decides to ignore what they just did, adopting the most casual version of herself as she releases a breath.
"I'm guessing high school?"
Harvey rolls his eyes, hands finding the insides of his pockets. "Unfortunately."
They begin slowly walking around the room again, pretending to take in the art as they talk.
"He seems.."
"Like an asshole?"
"Took the words right out of my mouth."
He decides to remind her of what they just did, unable to pretend like it didn't happen anymore.
"I wasn't expecting those other words to come out of your mouth back there..."
"He was throwing it in your face," she defends with a dismissive shrug, shaking her head and losing eye contact. "I wasn't gonna let him."
Harvey chuckles in both amusement and endearment. He knows she's as protective of him as he is of her, but he doesn't often get to see it in action himself. Most of her best work is executed behind the scenes.
"His poor wife.." Donna adds a moment later, taking the chance to divert the conversation.
"Oh I wouldn't worry."
"How do you mean?"
His brows ascend with a smirk. "If I know Lucy, she's just as bad as he is."
"Oh," Donna responds with faux ease. "I almost forgot."
"What?"
"You know Lucy…"
Harvey pulls to a stop, completely failing to hide his shit-eating grin as he basks in the sudden rays of green in her eyes.
"Yeah, you didn't just forget that."
"Are you calling me a liar?" she blinks up at him with feigned innocence.
"That depends." He's never felt more tempted to challenge her on this particular subject. The jealousy subject. "Are you gonna tell me that it doesn't bother you?"
"Oh please," Donna laughs off, a desperate nonchalance about her. "She's a childhood crush, I-"
"I don't mean just Lucy."
"All the other women?" she scoffs, feeling her heart race at his boldness.
His smug face replies with a yes.
"Oh my God," she stalls. "You are unbelievable, you know that?"
"That's not an answer."
And she decides he's not getting one. Not here. Not like this. Laughing him off is all she can do, sending him a look to tell him he's being ridiculous, before she they walking and talking again.
"Im assuming she was a high school sweetheart?"
He loves that she can't help but investigate further.
"More like heartbreak."
"Ooh." Her hazel eyes go wide as she mocks him. "Was she your first victim?"
"She broke my heart, thank you very much."
"Oh I see," Donna nods as she ponders. "And ever since then, you've vowed to be the heartbreaker instead of the heartbroken."
"Something like that."
He agreed for the sake of it, but he knows he'd never break hers. If he ever has the chance to, that is.
He's been actively testing their waters and it's invigorating after all these years. It scares him, but not enough to force him to retreat back to known shores like he always does.
Now he just needs her to finally break that pattern, too. It might take two to tango, but she's going to have to take his hand in order for them to dance.
"I am," he suddenly admits, refusing to look away - or to let her successfully change the subject.
"You are what?"
"Bothered," he nods. "By all the other men."
She knows he means the ones she's dated in the past. And she doesn't know what to say. She sensed they were building towards something these last few weeks. But this? Here? She isn't prepared, and he can see he's not going to get the response he'd have hoped for right now.
His eyes land on his mother in the far corner, chatting to a group of people.
"Hey, what do you say we go for dinner tonight?"
He wishes he could leave it there, but it feels like she'll know what his intentions are, because he sure does. And she is a mind-reader after all. He doesn't want to freak her out with too many moves and admissions at once.
"With my mother."
"I'd like that," Donna nods with an exhale, still processing, her eyes sparkling like she knows what he's doing, but doesn't want to fight it.
It's a weird feeling, not being met with any resistance or doubt. All this seemingly smooth sailing. But he's not complaining.
.
He chooses this charming Italian restaurant they used to frequent as a family. The one he and his father continued to go to even as everything else went to shit, and long after.
It feels nice being there with his mother again, making some good memories after all the bad.
And it feels really great taking Donna there too.
He watches the two women chat over gnocchi and wine. Sometimes as though he wasn't even there. Which he doesn't mind at all, because it gives him the chance to stare at her undetected - or so he thinks. And when she eventually eyes him with that smile as Lily tells her some embarrassing story about him that he can't even hear because her allure overwhelms all other senses, he thinks he's looking at the most picture-perfect portrait. One worthy of painting.
And when she looks away again, and it hits him just how much he wants her attention to last forever, he knows he's going to make a move tonight.
The move.
But little does he know his own mother is planning on making moves of her own. For his benefit of course. And when he excuses himself to go to the men's room before dessert, she doesn't waste any time.
"I'm pretty sure he just used the bathroom as an excuse to get a break from us," Donna jests after he leaves.
"Well, maybe from me," Lily chuckles. "But certainly not you."
"What do you mean?"
Lily smiles, enhancing the wrinkles on the corner of each eye, hands clasped under her chin as she stares.
"Earlier, when I said Harvey never mentioned you before," she revisits. "That wasn't true."
"Oh?"
Her hands fall to the table, one lightly fiddling with white tablecloth closest to Donna.
"I mean, he didn't use your name. But after meeting you, I have no doubt that you're her."
Donna sends her a quizzical stare, still smiling, nerves building.
"Her?"
"Someone very special to him," she says simply, voice implying that those words weren't her own. "You convinced him to come see me. And I can't thank you enough for that, Donna."
Lily's response wraps them up in this sudden silence, Donna unable to hear the music playing in the background as the white noise inside her head pounds against her eardrum.
"You don't need to thank me," she utters, mind still on the word special, and what the hell it really means to him.
It's not like she was oblivious to how they were acting around each other lately. But she could never be sure if it was just Harvey being Harvey - the old, relentlessly flirtatious Harvey at least. He did let her know that he jerks off thinking about the night they slept together before leaving things at that for weeks, after all. But now, he's taking her to Boston, telling her he's bothered by other guys, and all too keenly pretending to be her boyfriend in public. And now there's this revelation about his reconciliation with his mother to consider.
"Forgive me if I'm being forward," Lily starts with caution, eager to understand Donna's reaction. "But you seem shocked he'd say that? When all night I've been watching you two drool over each other. Having to tell my friends that you weren't actually an item because they just assumed as much."
"Lily, I-"
"Look, you don't have to say anything." She tentatively rests her hand over Donna's for a moment, before placing it over her own chest. "I just want you to know that he holds you in here." Donna's eyes land on Lily's palm flat over her heart. "And I know I haven't been around much, but I've only ever seen him do that with family."
"I guess we are like family after all this time."
It's too hard not to makes excuses after thirteen years of doing precisely that.
"No." She shakes her head, eyes warm. "It's different with you."
Those words take Donna right back to that night. Her couch. His confession. Their fallout.
"We wasted so many years, Donna. Because we were too afraid, or stubborn, to have the conversations we needed to have." She sees Harvey approaching and lowers her voice to a near whisper. "Life is too short. Don't make that same mistake."
Donna's reveries of two bittersweet I love yous are interrupted by Harvey's return.
"I hope you didn't whip out any photos while I was gone." He holds his tie to his chest as he takes a seat, looking at the pair suspiciously. "It was the 80's, I'm not responsible for how I was dressed."
Lily eyes the redhead, seeing she isn't ready to speak.
"I was just telling Donna about the time you broke the neighbour's window and decided you were running away from home," she humours, knowing full well this was the first time she mentioned it.
"I was seven," he defends. "And Mrs. Peters was the scariest woman I've ever met. To this day."
Lily looks to Donna again. "He offered to mow her lawn for a whole month."
"Two weeks," Harvey corrects. "She made it four."
"What I wouldn't give to see that," Donna chimes in when she realises she's being uncharacteristically quiet.
However, her acting isn't up to par and Harvey can tell something is up as he cautiously observes her, deciding it best not to comment right now.
.
The trio stand outside the restaurant about to part ways later that night. The street is dimly lit and there's light flakes of snow falling overhead as they chat in the cold waiting for cabs.
"Thanks for coming all the way out here, you two," Lily begins. "I had a wonderful time."
"I'm just happy to see you both spending some time together again," Donna smiles at her. "Especially at this time of year."
Lily can't resist giving fate one more push, desperate to make up for things after the last time Harvey introduced her to a woman. Although, after meeting Donna, she can't say she really feels guilty about that anymore. She's never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at her. So if putting her foot in it the last time helped him get here, with the right woman, then she's glad she did.
"Yes. Well apparently I have someone very special to thank for that."
If he never hears that term again it will be too soon.
"Mom..."
"I mean, he won't tell me who she is, but," Lily ignores Harvey, continuing to play dumb.
Donna tries her best not to laugh.
"Mom."
"What? Have I said something?"
"Your cab is here."
She points a brow towards Donna. "I guess that's my cue to leave then."
"You bet," Harvey responds, acting more annoyed than he is.
"Are you sure you guys won't stay with us?" Lily asks, although, she senses that they want to be alone tonight.
"Thanks, but we've already booked our rooms and our bags are there so."
"But we can visit before we leave tomorrow?" Donna suggests, picking up on Lily's slight disappointment, looking to Harvey for the approval she knows he'll give. "Right?"
He thinks about Donna being in his hometown, seeing where he grew up.
"Sure, sounds good to me."
"Wonderful! I'll see you two tomorrow then," Lily nods joyfully.
They say their final goodbyes and she climbs into the cab, Donna and Harvey watching until it's out of view.
He has to ask when he spots her glancing down at the pavement, trying her best to hide the most sweetly smug smile he's ever laid eyes on.
"I'm guessing she told you then?"
"That you think I'm special?" Her elbow nudges his arm. "Yeah, she might have mentioned."
Harvey rolls his eyes in that exact way that tells her he's really loving it.
"I mean, I always knew," she teases, finding it easier to joke now that it has sunk in. "It's just nice to have confirmation."
"Yeah yeah, just don't let it go to your head."
She dips her hands inside her coat pockets, pulling the material tight against her in the winter chill.
"I promise to only bring it up three times a week."
"How about every February 29th instead?"
He makes her laugh with that. Really laugh. He's elated just watching her look down at the ground, her hand swooping up to pin those fallen strands back behind her ear as she gazes back up at him and all he can think is how much he wants to tuck it back in place himself, and then pin her against that wall behind her and feel that smile against his own.
But no. He just stares at her, making her wonder what he's thinking. And if he's thinking what she's thinking. Which is that she wants to kiss him again. But she's never going to make the next move after the last time. He made her promise.
However, neither have to worry about what to say next as their cab pulls up, offering to take them back to their hotel for the night.
But then he spots something land on the top of her pointy nose, turning red in ice cold air.
"You've got a…"
"What?" she asks, growing self-conscious as he shyly points to her face.
"Here, let me."
He takes his thumb to the tip of her nose, gently swiping away a stray snowdrop.
"Make a wish."
"Harvey, I don't think that's-"
"Just make a wish, Donna."
She sighs with a smile, closing her eyes - if only just to mock him.
He could kiss her right now, though, he thinks it's too cliché. But if he was entirely honest with himself, he'd admit he's just scared shirtless now that the perfect opportunity has actually presented itself.
"There," she breathes, opening them after a few more seconds, her wish unfulfilled, making her feel stupid for ever asking for it. "Now let's go."
He feels like he's in the doghouse for some reason as she passes him in a minor huff, pulling open the car door and jumping inside. Almost tempted to drive off without his cowardly ass.
How did he not think to kiss her then? How could such a ladies' man be that fucking clueless?
He gets in beside her, feeling the change in atmosphere. His brain already on overdrive, knowing he's running out of time before they're both sleeping in separate beds tonight.
.
When they're outside her room, he feels fourteen again. And all confidence is fleeting. No charm, no flirt, no confidence to be found. None of the things he thinks he needs to finally break that fickle barrier between them. The one that has always done its job too well, or not at all. The one that allows their lines to be as blurry as lines can get, without letting there be no lines altogether.
The only thing preventing either of them from hearing the other's heart beating right now is their own, thumping out of their chest at a frantic rate.
"Thanks for coming with me, Donna," he says, deciding to lean in for a hug, if anything just stalling for time. Not wanting her to go, but too chicken to make her stay.
"Thanks for asking," she breathes over his shoulder before pulling back.
His right hand slides down her left arm until his fingers are tracing the side of her hand, thumb barely wrapping around her wrist.
"Well, good night then," he nods.
"Night."
She cements her lips together after waiting a second too long for what feels like nothing. It always ends in nothing. And she hates herself more and more each time for allowing herself to believe in something, anything. Because apparently she's never worth the risk.
She's turning to fit her keycard inside her door when she feels a gentle tug at her wrist. Halted by his hand, now preventing her from leaving without forcing her to stay.
Neither say a word and as the tension increases, their distance decreases. Bodies slowly and simultaneously gravitating in the other's direction.
Ebony eyes rake over glossed lips. It seems so easy just to lean in and kiss her right now, but he knows it's not. Otherwise he'd have done so a million times over the years. But he's desperate to show her just how much he wanted to kiss her back the night she launched herself on him in her office. Before running away just as quick.
He's not stupid. He can see she wants this now. It's not rejection he fears anymore. He can read her much better these days, and they've never been closer to being on the same page about their relationship. But it's the whole book he's worried about now. And how it will end if they start this next chapter. It's easy to want to write it. But picking up the pen is another thing.
"See you tomorrow," she whispers, and he knows she's tired. Of them.
He's about to say something but before he can she slips inside her room, shutting him out in more ways than one.
Donna removes her coat, sits on her bed and lets out an exasperated sigh. How are they still here after everything? Maybe this is how it's meant to be. It shouldn't be this hard.
She knows sleep will ignore her for at least a few more hours, so she has nothing to do but think. About him in the opposite room. Without her. All because he's too scared to make a real move. Ambiguity forever in place of action.
Then she remembers she also has a part to play in that. She may be refusing to act first again, but there's nothing stopping her from opening her mouth a bit more. And yet, here she sits. Alone. Because of exactly that.
Lily's recent advice replaying in her mind now.
Meanwhile, Harvey's trying to build up the courage to go knock on her door. Or knock her door down. He feels like he could do that with all the frustration building now. At himself. At them.
Fuck it, he thinks, pushing himself off the bed after five minutes of deliberating, when he knows there's only one acceptable course of action.
He swings his door open harder than necessary, slamming it behind him and landing himself in front of hers. He's not sure if it's because of all the wine, but he's positive that it's down to all of his feelings. And hers.
Before he can talk himself out of it, he raises his fist to the wood, about to knock. But he freezes when he hears the latch, watching the door gush open until he's met with Donna, wearing nothing but a silk nightie and robe.
He tries not to let his eyes slip, but they're right there.
"Harvey," she utters, closing the robe over body, her short nightdress suddenly making her feel naked. "What are you doing?"
"I uhh…" He almost can't remember. But then he remembers something else. He drops his hand back to his side. "Wait, what are you doing?"
She scratches the back of her neck, chin lowered, unable to look him in the eye.
"I was..."
Harvey tilts his head, pursing lips with cocky smirk, his nerves evaporating in the air between them now that he's convinced of her intentions.
Finally.
He leans against the door frame, waiting for an answer but she's failing miserably.
"Out of milk?"
"Oh shut up," she caves, folding her arms and jutting out her hip. "I was about to do what you're doing right now and you know it."
He can't help but fixate on her height. The extra few inches he needs to lower his gaze. It's adorable. She's fucking adorable.
He stands up straight again, closing the gap a few inches as he does so.
"And what exactly is it you think I'm doing, Donna?"
His breath is hot and heavy against her nose as it spreads across her cheeks.
"Thinking about telling me something…" she trails off, eyes flickering to those lips, so close. "So you can get something."
"So I'm guessing you wanna get something too?"
She can't even see a full eye roll through. The tension in her groin stealing most of her attention now. She chuckles at their ridiculousness, having his heart pick up speed again.
"And I'm guessing you wanna come in?"
"Yes," he confirms straight away, needing her to know how much he wants to. Wants her. "Yes I do."
With a wicked smirk, she catches the bottom of his shirt and pulls him towards her, backing them into the dividing wall a few feet behind with a thud before he kicks the door closed with jet black eyes absorbing her. Soon followed by his lips crashing against hers, with want, and without hesitance.
"So," Donna mumbles between kisses. "What did you," Harvey pulls on her lower lip, abs hard against her body as he grinds into her, "want to tell me?"
"In exchange for sex?"
His breath tickles her neck as he speaks, pulling the robe off her shoulders next so she can wriggle free.
"Harvey," she reprimands, only because she's Donna.
He pulls back, gives her a smile and kisses her on the mouth again.
"Same thing," he mutters, feeling her fingers on his skin as she makes light work of his buttons, "you wanted," she almost forgot how incredible his voice feels against her lips, her flesh, "to tell me."
She breaks their kiss with a loud pop. "Which was?"
His thumb caresses her lower lip before their eyes meet. He looks at her, his face telling her that she should know. But she returns it with a look of her own, telling him she needs to hear it.
"That you love me."
She's not letting him away with vague. "I've already told you that."
They're not really talking about her and they both know it.
He smirks, pressing against her even more.
"That you're in love with me."
"I am?" Donna asks sweetly, hands gripping his waist under his disheveled shirt, his bulge hard against her now.
"You are," he confirms with a solemn nod.
"I am," she smiles a moment later, lips feeling warm and raw, exhilaration evident in her expression.
He's in love with her.
Somewhere along the line, words are replaced by undying want. All clothes are lost to lust. And any previous denial dissolves, leaving only acceptance.
He makes love to her, and she to him. In all the ways they were afraid to the other time. Desperately trying to come across as casual as possible with the one person they felt anything but casual about.
But this time, he makes her feel every once of love with each thrust. Whenever his lips meet her centre. Every time his tongue tastes her flesh. And when his eyes demand hers as he makes her come while calling out his name as if it's a blessing and a curse.
And when she straddles him with wanting eyes, sinking down on his throbbing length intent on aiding his release, he sees it meant everything to her back then too. Because besides the absence of dark red bangs, and the addition of some age lines that only make her even more attractive, he's looking at the same woman now as he was that night.
As they lay there together, naked and spent, he tells her all he's ever wanted is more, and she admits that she felt everything.
…
The following week they share their first real Christmas together. It's never been a big deal to him, but this year he has everything to be grateful for, so he embraces the holiday. Mostly for her sake, though.
He wants to give her a his gift before they leave for Boston again. So he can have the moment to himself before he has to share her with his relatives.
"We're gonna be late," she protests at first, hiding her intrigue.
"No we're not, now come here."
She sighs, leaves her travel case by his island and strolls over to him, standing near the couches.
He pulls out a red leather jewelry case from behind his back, watching her mirror his smirk as she peers up at him.
"I almost forgot."
"What?"
"You actually picked it out yourself this year," she teases, unsure what else to do because he's never gifted her in this way before.
"I might have had to ask around for help..."
"Samantha?"
"Yes," he admits reluctantly. "But the idea was mine."
She nips her bottom lip, holding back most of her laughter. But the image of him asking for help to find her the perfect gift makes her stomach dance.
"Thank you, Harvey."
"Why don't you open it before you thank me."
She does as he suggests, and he only has eyes for her as hers land on the gold necklace that makes her touch the piece dangling from her ear lobe.
"Thought you might want this to match those."
"Harvey.." she whispers, unable to take her eyes off of the gold chain.
"Here, let me."
She turns her back to him as he takes the necklace, holding up her vibrant locks. His fingers send light shivers through her skin as he secures it in place. His hands gliding down her body as she twists in his arms, facing him again, limbs locked around his neck.
"It's no lost family painting but.."
"I love it, Harvey."
"Sure you're not just saying that because you love me?"
"And what makes you think that I love you?" Her pursed lips and fake frown tell him exactly that. "I'm just using you for all this expensive jewelry."
He licks his lips and leans in, taking her by surprise as their mouths melt together. He waits until he makes her hum against him with arousal. Noses still grazing, he pulls back, just so he can make his point.
"Exhibit B," he states with smug satisfaction.
Her thumb catches in his strands as she mindlessly strokes the back of his head, lashes fluttering.
"And what's exhibit A?"
Harvey smiles and turns his head towards the beloved painting now hanging in his living room. Her eyes land on the irrefutable evidence and she grins, affectionately resting her forehead against his jaw. Both staring at his answer, wrapped up in a comfortable silence, and each other.
"Yeah," she nods, pulling her back back, thumb stroking his jawline. "I guess I'm into you."