A/N: This is gonna be a short multi-chapters, extremely fluffy.

*For my friend Lau, who I love dearly. Happy B-day!

As he wakes up alone in his bed squeezing his pillow instead of spooning the woman who was sharing his bed in his dreams, he gets a sinking feeling in his stomach

Since Mike's arrest a few weeks ago, it was like the firm was working on auto-pilot. Most clients broke their contract except for a few who still believe in Harvey's capacity to win their case, mostly because Donna convinced them to do so.

...

[Every night, he hears the clicking of her heels on the floor of his office.]

"Anything else I can help you with, Harvey?" He peels his eyes from whatever contract he's reading, the words on the pages already blurry from the moment he hears her coming from afar. He lifts his gaze and sees her, wearing a dress. A dress that always hugs the curves he once felt under his tongue. He avoids spending too much time admiring her body, it's just pure torture. He focuses on her face, her porcelain skin, her raspberry lips curling into a soft smile after she says his name.

He won't admit it but this simple question makes his heart beat faster each and every time. If only he could say what he really wants, what he's been wanting all these years. If only he could say:

'Actually yes. Every day when you leave I feel sad and empty. I want you because I love you. Let's go back to my place. Not just tonight, but every night from now on. Please Donna, just say yes…'

...

He sits on the side of his bed and inhales deeply. Today is her birthday. He should call her.

Harvey Specter had emotional problems. That's why he had asked Scottie if it would be okay to call her after this whole mess.

Meanwhile, there was this woman who had stood by him and never stopped having faith in him… that he never called. Not even on her birthday.

He knows it now, that it would always be easier to call Scottie. His old flame can take him, use him, leave him, and the tiny pinching she leaves in his heart will always be nothing compared to how he felt when Donna left him to work for Louis.

His problem right now is that even if she is back, his heart has been longing for something more. When he had to take one of the biggest decision of his life, he went to Donna. Not his therapist Paula Agard. Not Scottie, the woman he said he would call.

Donna.

He remembers his feet taking him there, his fist knocking on her door. No, he didn't think this through, it was just the natural thing to do because she was the person who always had faith in him and stood by him, and she was the only person he wanted to talk this with. She was special. She was…

The woman he was in love with.

Being in love with her. It had crossed his mind throughout the years, like a possibility or a 'what if'. She made it clear years ago that he wasn't allowed to so he refused to accept the possibility.

But since this realization had hit him, he was now left with a broken heart each and every night she repeated these words to which he could never reply to, asking him if there was anything more she could do to help him. He was too afraid it might destroyed whatever they took years building.

His throat is dry and he licks his lips nervously as he hears her sleepy voice on the other end of the line. "Harvey?" she asks. "It's 8:40. On a Sunday…" She pauses as he struggles with what to say. He is pretty sure 'Donna, I dreamed we had sex and it was fantastic and I love you and can't spend another minute without you' isn't the right way to go.

"Harvey," she says more nervously. "Did something happen? Are you alright?"

"It's your birthday." As soon as the words leave his mouth he realizes how stupid he sounds. He didn't sound happy. He stated it as a fact. "It is," she says. "So why are you waking me up?"

This is it, he thinks. "I wanted to be the first one to wish you Happy Birthday," he tells her, trying to make his tone more cheerful despite the nervousness making him nauseous. "I thought we could drive…somewhere."

"Somewhere…?" She repeats.

"Upstate."

"Are you asking me out on a date?" The tone of her voice isn't accusatory.

"I'm asking you out for your birthday. I think we should celebrate." Okay, he thinks. He avoided the question but it still a honest answer.

"Harvey," she sighs. "First, what makes you think you are the first one wishing me Happy Birthday this morning and why would you think I'd be interested to leave this bed to drive off somewhere with my boss?"

Fuck. He's speechless.

He had been so caught up on coping with his feelings, on finding the courage to finally call her, that it hadn't crossed his mind she might be already celebrating with 'someone else'. Was she still with that douchebag? What was his name again? MITCHELL. Okay, he had never met him but he had sex with Donna and he, Harvey Specter, wasn't, and that was more than enough to officially make him a solid douchebag.

"I'm sorry," he says, not feeling sorry one bit. Most of all, he'd like to drive to her apartment right now and punch Mitchell. Just like he had punched Stephen. It didn't make anything better but it felt good anyway.

"I was hoping…" He thinks for a moment. Maybe he should start being truthful? "I wanted to…" He can't even finish a sentence. How could he talk his way through anything in court but be rendered speechless when it comes to expressing his feelings to Donna Paulsen.

"I'm alone," she says ending his misery. "Harvey. Are you asking me out on a date?"

He wants to ask if Mitchell is out of the picture, maybe he should. But apparently she is the one leading, again. "I am. It's your birthday." he offers. His throat feels so dry and his voice comes out hoarse. "Is Mitchell out of the picture?"

"He is." She exhales into the phone and continues. "Good. I'll be ready at 10. Don't be late," she warns him.

Her voice is calm, warm, accepting. Like she's been expecting this. Maybe she's been waiting for him.

When he hangs up, he feels giddy like a teenager out on his first date.

It isn't a particularly warm spring day, Donna thinks, as she rolls up the window of his green Mustang.

She was very surprised by his call.

Since she came back to him, she felt something had shifted between them.

He's quicker to acknowledge his mistakes, he opens up more easily…

Still, she was surprised by his call because she thought he had chosen Scottie. Not because he loves Scottie more, just because he had consciously chosen not to love Donna this way. Maybe he wanted sex. This morning, she had opened the door to see him freshly shaven, wearing a blue sweater and grey pants, with black boots. His enticing cologne tickled her nose and he flashed her a big smile as he offered her a big bouquet of roses. She tried making him admit it was a date as it sure did look like one. He avoided it. Again. Blamed the 'date' on her birthday. So maybe she should just expect sex.

Either way, maybe it was her birthday and she could just take whatever he wanted to give her.

After all, the firm was practically dead. She should probably look for another job anyway...

He turns up the volume, singing along with the radio. She always liked the tone of his voice. She had never told him she listened to him singing to his records late at night, but he probably knew, since he never turned the intercom off. She likes to think that all these years, he's been singing to her. She looks at him. His eyes are on the road as he sings:

'Only darkness every day

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone

And this house just ain't no home

Anytime she goes away'

He stops singing and glances at her, smiling softly. She feels flustered. "Bill Withers sings the truth you know…" He stops. She can pinpoints the exact moment he builds his walls up again.

'Why does he always have to stop mid-thought,' Donna wonders.

He focuses on the road again, opens his mouth to speak. She wishes he could just say it, but again, he can't. "I'm glad you came back to me, Donna," he says at last.

He will never have the courage. Never. She knew he loves her but he won't ever risk anything. She practically begged him to risk something and he didn't.

"Ah Fuck…" He mutters under his breath.

She raises an eyebrow. The motor is making some weird noises. "What?" she asks. "Harvey, are we in trouble?" This is a rhetorical question. Clearly, they are.

The motor makes hesitant noises. She ponders how she would like to see a building and not just trees-trees-trees… Why aren't they on a highway? She didn't notice if he took an exit or not. They drove on Palisades Parkway for a while and yes, she is one of those dumb women who enjoys admiring Harvey Specter's jawline while his eyes are on the road. She has no idea where they are.

"Harvey?" She asks again.

"Fuel." He mumbles.

"WHAT?" It comes out like a scream.

"I forgot to fill up the tank…" he mumbles again.

"You got to be kidding me!" she screams again, throwing her hands in the air.

The roaring sound of the Mustang dies slowly as the car halts on the side of the road.

"Wow!" She repeats. "Don't tell me: your secretary books your appointments, picks up your dry cleaning…maybe she should fill up your tank too?"

"I'm sorry." He takes his cell phone. "I'm gonna call the…" His stare is blank as he looks at the screen.

"Don't tell me… No phone signals?"

He shakes his head. "Donna, I'm really REALLY SORRY. I'm gonna walk to the nearest home and…"

"Really? Do you have any idea where we are? This place looks uninhabited. Where were we going anyway? You never told me…"

He removes his seat belt. "A park," he says without even looking at her.

Harvey opens the door, gets out of the car. She sees him grabbing a backpack and then, he walks to her side of the car and opens the door. "C'mon, we're almost there. We can walk."

She doesn't even answer. She just looks at him, waiting.

He tilts his head. "Donna, I have champagne in this bag."

"Wow!" She laughs. "You think I would do anything for champagne, don't you?"

"I surely hope so," he counters with a cocky smile.

GOD. Is he flirting with her? Okay. Maybe this thing he's been avoiding calling 'a date' is 'a date'. She is more intrigued than ever and decides today is his last chance.