AN: My first Suits story! I'm totally hooked on this pairing and I hope I did them justice. Also, FF won't keep all of my formatting and I have no idea why. Sorry about that.

{ O n e }

She feels his sense of betrayal as though it's a mantle resting around her shoulders, but she buries it beneath the armor of her anger and forges on. Working for Louis shouldn't be any different than working for Harvey, but it is; Donna is just down the hall and it feels like she's crossed dimensions. There is an ease and lightness with Louis that comes from a friendship that is uncomplicated by darker undercurrents. The biggest difference, though, is in the warm and open affection that Louis shows her almost daily.

Donna knows that Harvey appreciates her, but he's rarely said so. In fact, it's possible he's never said so – at least verbally. Louis insists on having lunches delivered from all of her favorite restaurants and asks about her plans for the weekends and encourages her to do another theater production. He tells her he appreciates her twice in as many weeks.

She has never been closer to anyone than she is to Harvey, and that's still true despite what Mike refers to as "the divorce". Still, Louis' interest in her life makes her feel like the distance between herself and Harvey isn't just a gap, it's a chasm. Twelve years of his history, and theirs, but little of hers. Such a nasty surprise, Donna thinks, to look back and realize that her fingerprints are all over and yet there's no tangible evidence that she was ever there.

"O and everything," Harvey likes to say, and for once it stabs at Donna with something fleeting and a bit too close to bitterness. Harvey Specter, the man who has everything.

Donna sits in the chair across from Louis and runs over his schedule for the day. She smiles when her eyes alight on the silver and embellished frame on his desk that she knows holds a picture of her younger self.

People will filter in and out of Harvey's office without ever knowing that she was there, but Louis' office is an affirmation of her presence.

Donna wears the necklace that Louis had made for her to work the next day; his grin when he sees it makes her forget for a minute that this isn't everything.

{ T w o }

They are professionals (and friends, more importantly, even if they choose not to focus on it temporarily) and can behave as such. Donna delights in having her finger on the pulse and keeps her ear pressed to the rumor mill, but the discovery that one of the analysts on the thirty-eighth floor spends his weekends in drag sweeps the news of Donna's boss-swap under the rug. Only once does she catch one of the younger secretaries – her name is Hilary and she tried to get Harvey's number from Donna when she was first hired – flouting her theory that Donna left Harvey because of a lover's spat. Donna wants to bite her head off, but she refuses to fan the flames and so smiles sweetly at the other woman before walking away.

The observation is frighteningly close to the truth, or some version of it at least, and Donna makes sure that she doesn't so much as see Harvey in the halls for the rest of the day. She lies and tells herself that it's only because she doesn't want to give Hilary ammunition.

Kate is in the kitchen area when Donna goes to make herself tea later that afternoon. She's a handful of years younger than Donna and Harvey's new secretary, but she's been with the firm for over four years. Kate is staring at the coffee pot like she's seriously considering brewing a pot despite the fact that it's nearly four p.m.

"You didn't tell me he was such a hard ass," Kate says when her eyes find Donna.

"I didn't have to," Donna retorts. She arches an eyebrow at the other woman in an everyone-knows-that sort of way. "And you're the one who wanted to move to his desk."

"That was before I knew that he'd perfected the art of barking orders at people without actually acknowledging they exist."

Donna sighs and leans a hip against the counter. "Where is he sitting?"

"What?" Kate asks in confusion.

"Where is Harvey sitting? At his desk?"

"The table in the corner."

"Jacket on or off?"

"Off," Kate answers slowly, and her brow furrows in confusion.

"Not good," Donna says in a matter-of-fact manner. "His case is going badly. If his tie is blue it's a legal difficulty and he's trying to find a loophole; if it's grey then the client withheld information that negates their leverage or takes it off the table. He'll ease up when he finds whatever he's looking for, and if you want vacation time that'll be the time to ask for it."

Kate stares at her as though she's just claimed credit for drafting the Declaration of Independence, but Donna ignores it. She advises Kate to forego the coffee and the other woman manages to thank her while also re-evaluating her.

Donna goes back to work and does an admirable job of putting it all out of her mind until Harvey's client strolls into the firm at a quarter to nine that evening. The client is Thom Bunting and he has a notoriously antagonistic relationship with Harvey; Donna is on her feet and moving down the hall just seconds after she hears the two men raising their voices at one another. She takes the folder with her that she's been working on for the last half of an hour.

She breezes into Harvey's office with all of her usual confidence and a wide smile. "Thom," she greets brightly.

Her voice cuts through the tension like a knife. Thom turns and smiles as soon as he sees her; Donna does what she does every time they see each other and steps in to offer him one of her cheeks, which he kisses sweetly.

"Donna," Thom says. "I didn't see you at your desk and thought you must have gone home for the evening."

"Why would I do that when I knew you were coming?"

Thom laughs and puts his hands on her biceps. For such an abrasive man, he has always been fond of her. "And how could you possibly have known that?"

"Because I'm Donna," she quips with a wiggle of her eyebrows. "I know."

Thom's expression hardens again and his hands drop away from her arms. "Then perhaps you know why Harvey hasn't come to me with a settlement offer on this case yet." His words are hard and he's staring menacingly at Harvey.

"Because he's not meeting Alan Sommers until tomorrow morning." Donna answers before Harvey can. She waves the folder in her hands once before smiling in that charming way she has.

"Tomorrow," Thom repeats.

Donna nods. "Nine a.m. Now, why don't we leave Harvey to work his magic and you can walk me down and tell me all about those grandsons of yours."

Thom grumbles but it's easy to see that Donna has won him over. She steps over to Harvey and hands him the file; the smile she offers him is conspiratorial and maybe a little too wistful. He takes her offering and lifts one corner of his mouth in a barely there smile.

She bustles Thom out of Harvey's office and he can hear them talking as they move away down the hall. When Harvey sits and opens the file he sees that Donna has gotten a hold of the appointment Kate had originally scheduled for the next morning and almost completely redone it: the time slot is the same, but she's structured it in a way that'll give Harvey the most bang for his buck. It's exactly what he'll need.

Harvey sighs and leans back in his chair. Donna's perfume lingers in the air.

{ }

Donna plans the engagement party, because of course she does; it does Harvey no credit to admit that there's a moment where he almost considers not going.

After the incident with Thom Bunting it's harder to hold on to the notion that Donna betrayed him when she left. Harvey puts on a tux and steps into the restaurant that Donna has chosen for the celebration – it's called Nobu and he's certain that he's been here before – and thinks that maybe he's not as angry now as he was then.

He finds Mike and Rachel standing around a table with champagne flutes. Harvey congratulates them sincerely even though a part of him wonders if Mike can ever truly move on from what happened with Logan. Still, he likes Rachel and she isn't the same kind of person his mother was, so he wishes them the best.

Donna slips into the spot next to Harvey with a bright smile and a champagne flute of her own. Rachel hugs her immediately and says a heartfelt thank you; Mike kisses her cheek and tells her that she looks stunning. Donna accepts the compliment with a witty retort, but Harvey can see that she's touched.

Mike looks from Harvey to Donna and then back, and then his expression morphs into one that Harvey knows.

"Thank you," Mike starts earnestly. "Both of you. If you hadn't given me a chance then none of this would have happened. You've done more for me than you know."

Donna makes a small sound in the back of her throat. Harvey knows that she's on the verge of tears and when he looks at her, he can see the sheen of them as they threaten to spill over.

"Wait until you see your wedding present," Donna quips. Harvey knows that he misses her smile the moment it sweeps over her lips.

Rachel smirks like the words are some sort of code and Donna's grin turns wicked. Her hair is swept over one shoulder and it's easy to see the contrast of her freckles against the dark green of her dress; Harvey realizes that he's looking at her the wrong way, but he forgets to remember what makes it wrong.

Mike says something that makes Rachel blush and Donna laugh, and the sound gives Harvey the first inkling that maybe he doesn't have everything.

{ }

Sometimes Harvey has strange thoughts, and his latest is that something in his office has soaked in the smell of Donna over the years. The scent is faint and it's made up mostly of perfume; he only knows that it's hers because she's worn it so often over the years.

Maybe that smell is trapped in the couch cushions.

Then he finds himself returning to his office one night after an evening of celebratory drinks with Louis and Jessica. There's no reason for Harvey to go back to the office but he asks Ray to take him anyway.

He hears the music as he approaches. The overhead lights are off, but the lamp in the corner is on. Harvey isn't surprised when he sees Donna in his chaise lounge, her head tipped back against the headrest and her eyes closed. Her feet are bare and he takes too long in running his eyes up the length of her legs; she has a glass of scotch in one hand and resting in her lap.

"Thought you could just drink my scotch and I wouldn't notice?" There's no heat in his tone.

Donna tips her head toward him slightly but doesn't open her eyes. "You didn't," she answers.

Harvey doesn't say anything because she's right. He had no idea.

He crosses the length of his office and is about to reach for a glass of his own when Donna finally opens her eyes, and the change draws Harvey's to her face. The dim lighting made it easy to miss from the doorway but she's unusually pale; her eyes are red rimmed and blood shot. He forgets about the scotch and their shaky ground and immediately takes a seat on the edge of the chaise near her hip.

"What is it, Donna?"

Donna pulls herself upright and sets her tumbler down on the other side of the furniture. When she looks at Harvey again her bottom lip starts to quiver before she's managed a single word.

When she does speak it's in a whisper, as though the air has been pressed from her lungs. "My mom died."

Donna was the one to deliver the news of Harvey's father, but he'd turned away from her before she could offer him a hug or much else in the way of comfort. Harvey didn't even hug her during or after the threat of a prison sentence. Unlike either of those times there are no floodgates for Donna to close on her emotions now; she dissolves into crushingly quiet sobs right before his eyes. Harvey half slides to her, and half pulls her into him, until her forehead is braced against his collarbone.

It's the first time Harvey has held her in his arms since the Other Time. He can smell her shampoo; her shoulders shake beneath his arms, and her tears burn holes through his suit.

Harvey goes to the funeral.

{ }

People say that bad things happen in threes, and Harvey stops thinking that's a load of bullshit when he gets the call.

He's watching Mike pace in the area in front of his desk when his cell phone rings. He doesn't recognize the number but something about the name on the caller ID nags at him so he answers anyway.

Emergency contact for Donna Paulsen the person on the other line says, and the world spins wildly away from Harvey.

Ray could be thrown in prison for reckless endangerment for the way he drives, but he gets Harvey from the doors of the firm to the doors of the hospital in unbelievable time. Harvey takes the distance to the reception desk at the closest thing to a run that Mike's ever seen.

A hit and run the nurse tells them, and her face does something terrifying when she elaborates that it was pedestrian versus car and not car versus car. Harvey hears nothing after that.

Time doesn't start moving again until the nurse shows him into Donna's hospital room. She's asleep when the door opens and Harvey thinks he's going to pass out; her eyes open slowly and then find him in the doorway.

"Jesus, Harvey, you look like shit." Her voice is hoarse and too thick and forget passing out, Harvey's certain he's about to cry.

He pulls the chair next to her bed closer to the side and sits down. Mike moves to Donna's other side.

"So do you," Donna says to the younger man. He manages a smile.

"She's lucky," the nurse starts. Harvey forgot she existed. "Ms. Paulsen has a broken wrist and extensive bruising on her left side, but her injuries are minimal considering."

Donna's hair has been pulled out of her face and into a ponytail; there's a cut above her eyebrow and her bottom lip is split.

Mike ghosts a kiss over her cheek and excuses himself to call Rachel. Harvey starts to reach for Donna's uninjured hand where it rests on the bed and then hesitates. Donna gives him a pointed look that screams "you're not going to hurt me, Harvey" and turns her hand so that it's palm up; he covers it with one of his own. She smiles and then breathes out a hiss of air when the movement pulls at the cut in her lip.

"I'm okay, Harvey."

The sight of Donna injured and in a hospital bed makes him sick. How cruel it is to be reminded that even if he doesn't risk anything he could still lose everything.

{ S i x }

Between Harvey, Mike, and Rachel, they manage to keep Donna at home for four of the six weeks that Jessica gave her for convalescent leave. There's no reasoning with her after that though, and so she returns to work before the cast on her wrist is removed.

The second morning that Harvey shows up outside Donna's apartment with Ray she calls him on it.

"What are you doing here, Harvey?"

"Picking you up for work," he answers flippantly. He smiles when she narrows her eyes at him and opens the door for her.

"This isn't necessary," she chides him. Her words are undercut by the fact that she's already stepping up to the door. "I'm perfectly capable of getting there on my own."

"I know." Harvey smiles at her and waits for her to slide into the backseat before closing the door and circling around to the other side.

Donna glares at him when he shows up at her desk at the end of the day, but she doesn't argue. Instead, she grabs her purse and makes a joke about the reappearance of chivalry as they travel down to where Ray waits with the car.

She thinks that's the end of it, but it isn't; Harvey picking her up and taking her home becomes a new ritual for them.

Donna will look back later and understand that this is where it starts.

{ }

Harvey celebrates the removal of Donna's cast by handing her a glass of wine. She smiles and takes it from him carefully with her newly freed hand; she doesn't need to see the bottle to know that it's her favorite red.

"How long you been holding out on me?" she teases.

"Too long," Harvey murmurs.

Donna's heart flutters painfully but she pushes it down. Harvey has made it clear where they stand.

"You're stalling," Donna deduces. "Baiting me with my favorite wine to buy time. When are we supposed to be there?" She takes a drink of the wine and relishes the taste of it on her tongue.

"Be where?" Harvey hedges.

She raises an eyebrow at him and watches him try to swallow a grin as he puts his wine glass down on his desk. Keeping anything a secret from her is an exercise in futility, especially when it's a party in her honor.

"Who gave it away? Louis?"

"No one. How many times do I have to tell you, I'm Donna. I know."

"Ten minutes," Harvey concedes. He moves toward her and reaches out slowly to extract the wine glass from her hand. He sets it down next to his.

Donna watches him warily. Her heart isn't just fluttering now; it's thrumming so loudly that it's like war drums in her ears. She doesn't move. Harvey keeps advancing until he's not only invading her personal space, but also eradicating it entirely. Only when one of his hands lands softly on the swell of one of her hips does Donna acknowledge that this is happening (but she refuses to consider what "this" is).

"Harvey," she says lowly. His eyes flick down to her lips and then back to her eyes. "What are you doing?"

"I thought you knew everything."

Donna does know everything, which is why she knows that she has to move. She can't stand here for another moment with Harvey's hand on her hip and their chests so close that they nearly brush with every breath; she can't let this scenario play out tonight just so that Harvey can explain it away tomorrow.

"We should go," Donna says as she pulls away and turns toward the door. This time she'll be the one to run.

"Donna."

She pauses mid-stride and inhales deeply before straightening her shoulders and turning back to face Harvey. The last thing Donna wants to do is fight with him, but she'll do what she has to because she'll be damned if Harvey Specter ever finds anything in her to pity again.

"I'm sorry," Harvey apologizes, and Donna prepares herself for battle. His next words are only confusing, though. "I shouldn't have made a joke."

A joke? He thinks that she's about to hightail it out of the room because of a joke? What the hell is going on here?

Harvey approaches her again and makes a point of standing too close, but he doesn't reach for her. "Have dinner with me tomorrow night."

Donna's brow furrows for a moment as she studies the face of the man that she's known for so long. "Careful, Harvey," she warns with as much humor as she can muster, "that almost sounded like an invitation for a date."

"It was." Harvey can tell from her expression that she's about to yell at him, so he hurries to continue. "I'm serious, Donna. I want to take you to dinner. Tomorrow, seven p.m."

"No."

Harvey smirks because that's just the answer he was hoping for. He tilts his head to the side and arches an eyebrow playfully.

"Fine." Now he gives in to the impulse to reach for her again, and his hand finds its way to her waist once more. He exerts enough pressure there to bring her a step closer. "But it's only fair for me to tell you that if you don't, then I'll just have to ask you again tomorrow. And the next day, and every day after that until you give in."

"You're serious," Donna states in surprise.

Harvey inches his face toward hers until their noses are almost brushing. "I'm always serious."

Donna huffs and the air warms Harvey's chin. "Don't give me that shit, I know you."

"Then say yes."

Donna's lips part as though she's about to answer, but Harvey cuts her off with a kiss. He presses his mouth to hers and feels the moment of hesitation that follows it, so he pulls gently on her hip to bring her closer. He's only lately admitted to himself that he's waited a decade to kiss this woman again; when Donna responds the gate that has held his memories of the Other Time at bay swings open. He sees her again in his mind's eye with her freckled skin bare under his hands and the flame of her hair spread out over a pillow.

"Is that a yes?" Harvey asks when they finally break away.

"Maybe," Donna answers. Her smile is more sweet than coy.

Harvey kisses her once more, a quick affirmation and a wordless settlement in one, and lets her go so she can retrieve her purse.

He shows up at her door ten minutes early the next evening; the maître's d lets it slip that Harvey has had the dinner reservations for nearly a month. Donna smiles like she's the living embodiment of the cat that ate the canary.

{ }

They fade into each other like pastel colors on an empty easel until the only line that ever really existed between them vanishes; it is not seamless or effortless, but it's constant. There is no back and forth, only forward.

It's like writing a song for someone else and discovering that they've known the harmony all along.