A/N: So the other night, I made a meme with a photo of depressed-Harvey and it went like this "I'm tired of this ritual where you get naked in the middle of two dozen thumbtacks so I can't walk to you to have sex".

I don't know what happened, it just ended up being a multi-chapters fic. Oops I did it again (said the girl who said a few months ago that she would NEVER write fanfics.)

I hope you'll enjoy this one, if you do, please leave a few words of encouragement so I won't feel alone in my little Darvey-deprived World. xoxo

(HIGH NOON –a few years ago-)

He smoked pot with Mike. He told him about the ritual.

He didn't tell Mike everything about the ritual.

Donna knew he liked baseball. Hitting a few thumbtacks with a can opener, that's funny.

That's also quite impossible.

"I can't believe that's what you and Donna do before trial!" Mike laughed, high as a kite, missing every damn thumbtack Harvey threw his way. "Yeah. That's what we've been doing for more than ten years…" Harvey trailed off, pensive, playing with the thumbtacks in his hands. Mike chuckled, dropping the can opener once more.

"But believe me, I'm better than you are Mike."

"How many?"

"My record was 3."

Mike laughed "Three? Harvey that's not…"

"I meant 15! Sorry. Stone. I hit 15." Harvey said looking visibly flustered.

"How many did she threw at you?"

"Three dozen. I clearly remember because this was on the day I was made partner."

"What did you win?"

He shrugged, rolling his eyes. "We don't win anything Mike, we're just doing this to let some steam off."

Mike looked at him half-convinced. "So this is it? You just play baseball with thumbtacks?"

"Yes! Don't make me regret telling you! Now could you please hit those thumbtacks?"

"You seem strangely agitated for a stone guy! I'm sure you aren't telling me everything… and I still don't understand the thumbtacks thing. Why thumbtacks?"

Harvey made an off-putting frown, exasperated. "That's our thing. We had thumbtacks available! We took them! There's nothing more to tell because there's nothing more to this!"

'

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'

(REWIND: WHEN HE WAS MADE PARTNER)

The ritual really started as a fake baseball game.

But they soon realized how difficult it was to hit a thumbtack with a stupid can opener, so they added something fun, a little challenge, as an incentive.

The little bonus rule was that every time they would hit five thumbtacks, the pitcher would remove a piece of clothing (the first person grabbing the can opener got to choose to be pitcher or hitter). The magical number was three. For her: dress, bra, panties. For him: Shirt and t-shirt, pants, boxer-brief. So hitting fifteen thumbtacks was the requisite for them to get completely naked. But this was highly hypothetical: not once they hit fifteen thumbtacks. They never even made it to ten.

Most of the time, they only used two dozen thumbtacks and on their best day, she hit good enough to make him remove his shirt, and him make her remove her dress. Never more.

It usually ended with him and her fully clothed or wearing underwear, while trying to hit thumbtacks, laughing.

When they didn't have enough time, and it happened more often that they liked (of course three or five minutes before trial wasn't enough) they just played baseball with the sacred can opener and one or two dozen thumbtacks. They could even play in his office. Quick fun.

If they had at least fifteen minutes, then they had enough time for "the bonus". Harvey usually just growled at whoever was in the file room to get out, they closed the door and started the ritual.

He would always remember the day they celebrated him becoming partners at the firm. Or as he said, the day "WE just made partners."

He wanted to see Donna Paulsen gloriously naked on the day he was made partner. It wasn't too much to ask. Plus, she agreed for three dozen thumbtacks. That meant it was highly possible he could see her naked if he stayed cool enough to hit fifteen.

She had already slipped out of her cream-colored dress around the middle of the second dozen. He was on his A-Game.

That was until he realized how beautiful was the woman standing in front of him, clad only in lacy black lingerie.

She was playing with the thumbtacks in her hands, moving her hips to the song "Take me out to the ball game' that she was whistling through her rosy lips. Her hair was bouncing on her shoulders, brushing her beautiful lacy bra.

She wasn't helping. He wanted to see her naked so much. He remembered those freckles and how he licked the whipped cream off her. There's nothing wrong in enjoying looking at a beautiful naked woman, right? He totally had those thoughts earlier today about Zoe, too. There is nothing wrong with it. Even if this woman is you're friend. It's platonic. It's just for fun.

"I still have a dozen to hit," he said in a rush. The can opener almost fell out of his sweaty palms. He took a step back, stepping on a few thumbtacks with his bare feet.

"OUCH! FUCK!" He winced in pain, trying to keep his balance between the file shelves.

They weren't wearing shoes. It was part of the game. They always removed their shoes before playing. They made that stupid rules the first time they played, "I'm so irresistible," she had said in true Donna-style, "I feel safer that way: I know you won't walk barefoot on those thumbtacks to try to touch my ass."

She shook her head, smiling. "Harvey, you know you aren't allowed to move. Are you ready? I'm going to start the last dozen."

"Be prepared to wear your birthday suit, woman!"

She threw and he took a swing, holding the can opener as firmly as he could between his thumb and index, as the rule indicated.

He hit the thumbtack! Yes!

Next swing: near-miss.

Are grown men allowed to cry? He could. After all his father just died…

He tried to concentrate. "Stop looking at her, look at the thumbtack" he thought.

HIT!

…and then he hit another. He had already hit three. Only one miss so far, things were going great. He could do this.

He positioned himself like he's playing the major league, feet planted firmly on the ground. "Send it again Donna, I'm ready!"

HIT!

She flipped her hair and sighed loudly. He was sure she was trying to get him distracted on purpose. But he was focused on his goal.

She threw another one. He hit it! The thumbtack flied in front of her. He was all smile.

"You got lucky, Specter," she said arching her back to reached behind to unclasp her bra. She let the bra slipped slowly into her hand, then she twirled it over her head into his direction.

He caught it, the soft, lacy fabrics burning his fingers with a need for more, a need to touch her skin. "We aren't allowed to touch each other's clothes," he said, feeling his cheeks getting warmer.

"Consider this a gift," she replied softly. "Since it's a special day." Her tone betrayed that she was talking more about his dad's dying than his promotion.

She was shorter than him by just a few inches but she looked way more vulnerable and delicate without her expensive dress and high heels. Her flaming red hair was a contrast on her pale, white skin. He remembered how soft her skin was under his lips. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat. He wasn't even looking at her breast, he knew they were fabulous.

He was staring at her lips.

They were friends, but he assumed he couldn't be insensible to a beautiful woman who stood half-naked in front of him, right?

That yearning inside him for more, it didn't mean he wanted a relationship…or…?

His gaze finally rested on her breast.

She was beautiful. Every inch of her was as perfect as he remembered from that night he showed up at her apartment.

If he could just brush his thumb softly on her peaks, making them harden so he could teased them with his tongue like he did the other time. She really liked it. When he did this, she moaned his name while fisting his hair. It felt so good, hearing his name while she…

"Harvey?" She called him. "Are you ready? I can't blame you for staring but we can't hide in here forever! People will wonder!"

Suddenly, he snapped out of it, his heart sank. This game didn't seem right anymore. Too many mixed-feelings. He felt confused, sad.

Donna was his friend. That's what they settled for years ago at the dinner: friends. Maybe he was confused because his dad just died?

He wasn't one to back down from a challenge so he focused on the task, pushed aside the nascent feelings inside him and hit the next five thumbtacks thrown at him like he was batting for the World Series.

He also felt like she threw the thumbtacks at him like she wanted him to succeed.

Like she wanted to strip down for him on that special day.

"So, I did the impossible!" He said, smirking, trying to keep his cool. "Where's my prize?"

She bit her lip, looking away. "Turn around. I don't feel comfortable…"

"…says the woman who was throwing her bra at me two minutes ago?" he countered, trying to look unimpressed.

But the fact was, he was really impressed. His heart was beating out of his chest from anticipation.

She turned around to face the wall, one hand on the file shelves, slowly peeling off her lace panties. He spotted the freckles on her back, all the way down to her waist and her…

Donna turned to face him. She was covering her nude body with her hands, but she slowly let her hands rest on her waist. He recalled that Boticelli painting he studied in College, "The Birth of Venus", where Venus emerged from the sea to arouse men physically then allowing their minds to better understand spiritual beauty.

Donna looked like a goddess.

He felt a flush creeping over his face as he contemplated her fully, absolutely bewitching in all her nakedness, for only a few seconds. He then quickly turned around, confused and overwhelmed, and got on his knees to pick up the thumbtacks on the ground.

"Thanks that was fun," he said hastily.

For the sake of their friendship, he would never hit more than five thumbtacks ever again.

'

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'

(PRESENT TIME)

He realized there was nothing appealing about a tired middle-aged man, slumped on a bar, whatever the price of the scotch in his glass was.

Since Donna left, his life just kept getting more and more empty every day.

He had resigned from the firm, to save Jessica.

Mike got arrested for Conspiracy to commit fraud. He bailed him out, but was still unsure how he would be able to get him out of this mess.

Earlier today, he canceled his appointment with Doctor Agard. He didn't feel like talking about his feelings right now. He tried to build walls like he used to.

He figured that if he could fuck some random woman he met in a bar and send her home, maybe he would fell less empty.

(to be continued...)