Title: Five Things From Which You Can't Go Back (1/5)

Pairing: D/H

Rating: K+

Summary: She can't help but wonder if their insatiable desire for each other is going to morph into the quiet complacency of scheduled evenings for sex and date nights. FUTURE!FIC. D/H

A/N: This is a FUTURE!FIC. No specific time in the future. The timeline WILL NOT be chronological. This is a five things in the sense that there will be five chapters. Once again, I gauge interest in a story by the feedback, so please let me know what you think. Thanks for reading, enjoy!

.::.::.::.

It's a regular Friday, just like any other. They have a routine now; Donna takes off before Harvey, picks up food to cook for dinner, while he wraps up things at work. On his way home, he spends a ridiculous amount of time picking out wine and something for dessert.

They never manage to get all the way to dessert, but that doesn't stop him from buying it. Besides, he's found that Donna gets ravenous around two and sugary confections only make things more exciting for him.

Tonight, he's settled on chocolate truffle with gold flakes. Donna suggested he pick up a pinot noir, so he labors over which will pair the best with their meal. In the end, his desire to eat and get home to Donna wins out and he picks his usual brand.

Harvey can practically smell the food when Ray drops him off outside, most certainly receiving a look of envy from his driver. He's not sure what it is, but he feels like he gets a lot of envious looks lately, like everyone can tell how ass over backwards he is for the gorgeous woman at his side. Maybe he's always received these looks and never noticed until now. Now that it matters.

The elevator doors open and the soft notes of a mellow saxophone are reverberating off the walls as he makes his way to the kitchen. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he watches her move around with ease and comfort, tasting whatever is simmering in the large pot, then reaching to take a large sip from her glass of water.

"Are just going to stand there, or are you going to give me a hand?" She shoots him a knowing look over her shoulder, a faint blush sweeping over her neck.

"You look like you've got it from here," he moves forward, his fingers itching to rub against her back, her sides, everywhere all at once. Instead when she turns, he reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, giving her a soft kiss before she turns back to the pot.

"Mmmm. Smells delicious. What are we eating?"

"Beef bourguignon. It's my mother's recipe, so if it's awful, blame her."

"I wouldn't dare." He keeps his arms wrapped around her waist, his back pressed into her as he breathes in the scent of her hair, soaking in her warmth. "How about you go change? I can keep an eye on this."

She smiles up at him in thanks and plants a grateful kiss at the corner of his jaw. "Give it another two minutes then stir."

.::.

Donna changes clothes quickly, pulling on her favorite pair of jeans and tugging on a plain t-shirt. Once they get in for the weekends, clothing tends to be more optional than anything. She keeps her hair down, but takes off the rest of her jewelry. Padding into the kitchen barefoot, Harvey has already removed his coat, tie, and vest, and is in the process of rolling up his sleeves.

"I don't know why you waste time rolling your sleeves when you know I'm going to be pulling this off you anyway."

"Because you like my forearms."

"I like all of you equally."

"Liar." He was right. She really, really liked his ass. And his lips. And his tongue. Definitely that. Okay maybe everything equally.

She rolls her eyes, pulling two plates from the cabinet and placing them next to the wine glasses Harvey set out.

"I put the bread in the oven. Should be ready in five," he states as he rubs unnecessarily close beside her and goes into the bedroom to change.

As she looks around, she realizes that half her apartment is over here, her running shoes are under the table, her earrings are on the counter, her magazines are on the table. Neither one of them has approached moving together. Part of her doesn't think it would be a good idea. She likes her apartment, she still stays there occasionally, normally when it's been a rough day and they both need alone time.

However, over the course of the last few months, that alone time has dwindled to the point where the thought of her just going home straight from work last week put as close to a scowl on Harvey's face that she'd ever seen. Regardless, neither of them likes change, and just being in a relationship is enough for a while.

She can feel his presence even before he reaches her. Something has gotten into him lately, it involves a lot of physical contact. Not that she minds, it just makes things at work distracting because he is always discreet, and always clever. Always.

Donna bends to pull the bread out of the oven, asking over her shoulder, "What's up with you lately?"

"What do you mean?"

"You can't keep your hands off me, not that I'm complaining."

His raised eyebrows tell her that he's mildly surprised she's even addressing the issue. "To be honest, I don't notice anything different."

"Really? Because you had your hand under my skirt today in the elevator."

"I have no idea how it got there," he helps her ladle the meal out of the pot, breathing the rich aroma deeply.

"Harvey," her tone is mildly disapproving, "the elevator was full."

"I can't help who gets on and off."

"You were certainly trying to control the getting off part."

She takes a seat next to him, ignoring his smirk and careless shrug. "I like to keep my finger on the pulse."

"Next time, how about you search a little faster and be a lot less obvious about it."

"No one had a clue," Harvey's innocent face doesn't work when he looks like he hit jackpot. "Besides, I told you if you ever wore that skirt with the slit up to your ears that there would be consequences. A Specter always honors his word."

They move away from his workplace antics and into more mundane topics, a little bit of gossip, a little bit of day-to-day, and then the debate over which movie they'd start that night. In the end, Donna won, not like they watch much of it anyway.

"Just curious, but what did you get for dessert?" She wipes down the table as he puts the last of the dishes in the dishwasher.

"It's a surprise. Why?"

"I'm in the mood for chocolate."

"You'll have to wait and see —" he grabs the bag just out of her reach, moving away so that she can't peak inside.

"Are you seriously going to hide it?"

"Why yes, yes I am," he replies, mischievous gleam in his eye. And thus begins the chase around the apartment, and how Harvey breaks his toe.

"I can't believe I tripped on that damn shoe." Harvey tosses disparaging quips at the offending running shoe from his seat on the couch while Donna returns to the living room.

Donna sighs as she places the ice pack on his foot, rolling her eyes at his theatrics. He actually tripped on the rug, but she isn't going to tell him that. She keeps his foot propped up in her lap, while Harvey searches for an episode of Star Trek to watch. Firmly ensconced in the corner, her body is toward Harvey with her elbow propped on the back of the couch, warm and comfortable.

The show starts and she hunkers down, hand rubbing the soft hairs of Harvey's leg absently. Per usual, once they start an episode of Star Trek, a marathon commences. It's not until the third episode that she realizes Harvey has fallen asleep. Part of her is a little frustrated, she wanted some form of release after the hellacious day it's been, but she knows he's exhausted.

She takes the remote and shuts off the TV, then and returns the mushy ice pack to the freezer. Stretching slowly, she turns down the bed and pulls on a pair of yoga pants. After washing her face and brushing her teeth in readying for bed, she leans on the back of the couch and rubs Harvey's forehead gently, slowly easing him back into consciousness.

"Come to bed," she whispers as his dark eyes peer up at her sleepily. No argument, he gets up and hobbles into the bedroom. She takes off his shirt while he removes his sweats, and together they crawl under the sheets and blankets.

Harvey sleeps on his stomach almost always, yet manages to wrap an arm around her waist to bring her close. Even now, he's got his chin tucked near her neck, breathing her in as he settles. Placing one last kiss on her shoulder, he falls asleep.

Donna however, cannot sleep, her mind stuck on the fact that this will be the third time they've gone to sleep without sex and the other two times were from sheer exhaustion. They'd barely removed their clothes the other two times. This is legitimate going to sleep together without the sex. What have they come to?

She can't help but wonder if their insatiable desire for each other is going to morph into the quiet complacency of scheduled evenings for sex and date nights.

Before her mind can churn any further, she feels Harvey's hand slide down and move softly along the smooth skin of her stomach, hooking a finger into her waistband. He moves his foot and instantly tenses, having bumped his toe against her leg.

"Damn shoe," he mutters.

"I'll take all my shoes when I go home next time to get them out of the way, okay?" she states, distracted by his hand moving up her rib cage along the underside of her breast.

"Or you could just put them away."

"Do you have a secret closet that I don't know about? Last time I checked, yours was pretty packed."

She can feel his lips move against her skin, quirking into a smile. "You mustn't have checked in a while then, because I cleared out the closet by the bathroom."

Her heart seems to falter in her chest and she tenses. Harvey lifts his head at feeling her stiffen, alarmed at her reaction.

"Why didn't you tell me? All my stuff is crammed in those two drawers in your dresser."

"I am telling you," he leans forward and kisses her long and sweet on the lips. "Besides, I thought you knew everything."

She huffs, but it's for show. They may not be moving in, but him reallocating a closet is as close as either one of them is getting for the time being. Baby steps. They're good at those. Settling into her pillow, she lets the soft sound of Harvey's breathing lull her to sleep, the rhythmic rubbing of his thumb on her side keeping in time with her heart.

When she wakes in the morning, it's to the feel of his hot kisses along her inner thigh and that clever thumb casually moving toward the pulse. Quiet complacency be damned.

.::.::.::.

A/N: I can't believe I ended it there. I totally should've gone for smut. That may be a deleted scene, we shall see.