A/N: Well, guys. This is it. The final chapter. More than triple the length of the first one - and the word count progression throughout the story really hurts my particular nature - but this fic sort of gained a life of its own and I kinda went along for the ride.

It's been fun, and you guys have been absolutely amazing. Thank you to each and every one who's liked and reviewed and favourited and bookmarked and also just read and enjoyed, cause that's what it's here for anyway.

A special thank you to Blue, beta extraordinaire and a wonderful friend.

Getting this one in before the mid-season finale tonight proves me oh so terribly wrong (but special love for S8 making Harvey getting himself off to Donna canon!).

Without much further ado. ;)

.

VIII. to one thing constant forever

.

Things get busy at Zane Specter Litt as they all get used to their new roles and each other, and Harvey doesn't mind. Him and Donna seem to be existing in a sort of a limbo – they flirt and insinuate and she takes his food and bosses him around, which is new and kinda exciting – but they never let it get out of hand. They're both preoccupied with the firm, and that feels comfortable.

Harvey goes home late most nights, always alone now. Quick sex or, god forbid, dating doesn't even cross his mind. In this limbo he's stuck in, it would feel like he's cheating on Donna which in equal measure makes no sense at all and all the sense in the world. He feels like he's committed to her, she just doesn't know it. Feels like their flirting is amounting to something, and he just needs to wait it out. He passes the time thinking about her. A lot. They have sex pretty much everywhere he can think of – his desk, her desk; his place and hers; up against his wall and in the elevator and against her front door and in the back of his limo – and she's on top and he's fucking her from behind and she comes against his mouth and they do it every which way, and it's always different, but one thing's the same. Every single time it's making love.

He's pretty sure he should make a move. He glosses over the thought.

.

When Marcus calls and he goes to Boston, things change. Not things. Him. It's uncanny how his family drives it home for him every single goddamn time. It's infuriating because he's pretty sure he should be over his abandonment issues by now, well into his forties. It's discouraging that he's not.

There's only one person he wants to talk to about this, and he calls her and she makes it better. Donna makes it better every single time. That's uncanny, too. It makes him want to go to her. It makes him want to keep his mouth shut.

He lays down on the big unfamiliar bed and misses her. He's been missing her a lot lately, feeling her absence in his personal life so completely, he's constantly feeling on the verge of saying something he won't be able to take back. Something like I love you and You could ruin me. Instead he says something irrelevant and vague about pigtails and the other time.

He said it's strawberries and whipped cream, and he wonders if she knows it's just code for her. He wonders if she wrote it off as a joke, as him being flippant; wonders if she realizes just how true it is. Just how completely she has him.

Getting comfortable on the bed, he closes his eyes and pictures her there beside him. Harvey takes a deep breath and swears he can smell her. His fingers twitchy on the comforter, he touches hers in his mind's eye, just a light brush, just her being there. He wishes she was. He wishes her walking up to the bed wearing his t-shirt too big for her frame – and isn't that a cliché; he doesn't care – and sliding in next to him, burying her nose in his neck and her hand in his shirt and the longing hits him like a tidal wave. That's what he wants. That's all he wants.

He sits up and reaches for his phone to call her again. To call a cab and get on the next flight home. To make a goddamn move.

The phone rings in his hand and it's Marcus. He wants to ignore it. Watching it ring, Harvey thinks about his brother. He thinks of his dad, too, of his parents, of his sister in law and Esther and dozens of other unhappy people who couldn't make it work.

He answers the phone.

.

Nothing changes so Harvey supposes he should stay just the same, as well. He does take Louis out for drinks, which is new, but he's a dick to Donna, which is supposed to be ancient history.

He says sorry, kinda. She smiles it off and doesn't mention it again, but he doesn't think she forgives him, either.

They're still Donna and Harvey, but they're not, and the notion sits uneasy in his gut, leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

The irony isn't lost on him, that it's usually Donna hand-holding his way through these kind of turmoils.

.

Donna's standing at her desk when he walks into her office. "So, with your vote, I'm thinking Alex has it in the bag."

"Excuse me?" she looks up from the papers she'd been sorting.

"What is it?"

"You assuming I'm voting for Alex, for one. I don't know who I'm supporting yet."

He can hardly believe what he's hearing. "Are you serious? I thought we agreed –"

"We didn't agree on anything, Harvey," she closes a folder. "You never asked."

That's true. But still. "I didn't think I needed to."

"No, you think because I'm Donna and you're Harvey, I'd just automatically vote your way."

"Donna," he walks over to stand in front of her desk, feeling like she'd just pulled the rug from under him. "Alex is my guy. I brought him here with the promise of named partnership."

"I understand that." He waits for her to continue, but it seems that that's all he's getting.

"So you're voting for Samantha. You're voting against me?"

"No, Harvey. I told you, I don't know which way I'm going to vote. But whoever it is, it's going to be my decision." She's standing up straight and there's only her desk between them, but it might as well be a sinkhole. Her face softens, but not her voice, "That's not voting against you, Harvey. I'm not your secretary anymore."

That makes him pause, his head pulling back in surprise. He refuses to think in hurt. "I know that. Don't you think I know that?"

"Do you?"

"Yes."

She nods curtly, "Because you put me here."

"Because I miss you every single day!" And he didn't mean to say it so loudly in her glass office in the middle of an afternoon, but fuck if it isn't the goddamn truth.

She wasn't expecting it, either, but she regains her wits quicker than him. She always does.

"I'm right here, Harvey. I've always been right here." He catches something in her expression, a vulnerability, but she hides it as fast as it came on. She's gotten good at that. "But I'm not compromising professional integrity to ease your fears. The firm is my priority now."

And that does hurt. "I guess I didn't think loyalty was a compromise."

"That's easy to say when you don't have everything to prove."

He wants to tell her she doesn't have to prove anything to anybody – she's Donna and she's been managing him for over a decade and he'd trust her with managing this whole damn firm – but he knows better. He sticks his hands in his pockets and nods, in agreement, in resignation. "Well. I know you'll do what's best for the firm." He wants to say more, make the final plea to convince her that Alex is the right man for the job, but a quick glance tells him it wouldn't be well received. Besides. He trusts her judgment. He doesn't always like it. But he does trust it.

He thinks she recognizes his restraint, because she gives him a small smile. "Thank you, Harvey."

Walking himself out, he stops at the door and turns around. She's sitting down in her chair, behind her desk, in her office that she fucking earned. She looks every bit the competent professional she's always been. She's exactly where she's supposed to be.

His voice is hoarse when he says, "I know I don't have the right, but I do miss you, Donna."

He leaves before she has the chance to reply.

.

He leaves the office earlier than usual that day. There are a million things going on right now that need his attention, but he's finding he doesn't really have the fight in him today. It's possible he's finally lost the taste for it all. He's in this out of loyalty to Alex, but if Harvey's honest with himself, he respects Samantha and wouldn't mind seeing her name on the wall, either. He wonders if it's age, or if Donna's influence is finally paying dividend. Ironic it should happen now, now that it feels like they're growing apart.

Pouring himself a drink, he looks out the window and thinks about what she said earlier. Considers if he still thinks of her as his secretary. He mulls that thought over in his mind, really gives it due consideration, and decides that, no. No, he doesn't. In fact, he hasn't in years, long before she made COO. Somewhere between the DA's office and the shredded memo, she became… Donna. And that's a loaded term if ever there was one. So, no, he doesn't think of her as his secretary. Problem is, he does think of her as his.

He's pretty sure she'd be outraged at that, but it's not like that. He just doesn't know how to be Harvey without Donna. And she said she's there, she's always been there, but lately it's felt a lot like he's on his own. Like he's lost any claim on her he might have had. He remembers feeling that way back when she decided she wanted more, wanted to move on professionally, that feeling of dread and insecurity. But then he sought out Paula and that muted it for awhile and –

He sets the glass down. His heart is hammering in his throat. He pulls at his collar, leaning against the glass. He's a goddamn idiot.

He thinks back on the kiss, on the choices he made, on the quiet revelation he had as he held her in his arms at Mike and Rachel's wedding. And what a coward he's been since. He thinks further back still, years and years of wanting her, and he might not have any claim on her but she sure as hell's had a claim on him for forever. He wants to be her priority again and he wants it to have exactly nothing to do with her job.

Looking out at the busy city beneath him, he's acutely aware of the emptiness behind him. His apartment no longer much of a bachelor pad and instead more of an isolation room. Paula was a weak half-assed attempt to fill it with anything personal or meaningful and yet when he turns around to look at it, the only things he finds that matter to him are his record collection hiding a picture of him and Donna, and that goddamn cactus she gave him that refuses to die, even when he neglects it.

Fishing the phone from his pocket, he dials Ray. He's been a goddamn idiot for long enough.

.

Donna opens the door on the third knock and he thinks she looks tired. He certainly feels it.

"Harvey, if this is about the vote," she starts, but there's no real fight to her words.

"I'm not here about the damn vote, Donna."

"Okay?"

"Can I come in?" he asks without preamble.

"Um," she raises her eyebrows, "Sure, Harvey." Stepping aside, she lets him pass.

He walks into the living room, and oh. "This is," he looks around, "different."

"Yeah, well. I needed a change," she gives him a small smile, but it's tight. Things are definitely not back to normal between them. He finds strange comfort in that. It certainly makes it easier to shake up the status quo. "Can I offer you a drink?"

He looks up, "No. No, I'm fine."

"Would you like to sit down?"

She's pleasant and cordial and it's fucking unnerving. "Can you stop?"

"Stop what?"

"Being… polite."

"What is this about, Harvey?" She exhales in a huff. "Why are you here?"

Now that she's pointedly asking, he finds himself beginning to panic. He stands there dumbfounded and suddenly he's not so sure this is a good idea after all. Harvey doesn't intimidate easily and no one's ever been able to intimidate him like Donna. But then, no one's ever meant as much. He figures that's probably a good reason to stand his ground. "Things have been," he searches for the right term and grimaces when all that comes out is, "weird between us."

"If you're talking about today, that was a professional disagreement. Things are fine, really," she dismisses, but it's empty platitudes and she's not even trying. She starts for the kitchen, stepping around him on her way, "Why don't I get us a drink and -"

She's cut off when he grabs her wrist to stop her. They don't touch, not really, not like this. Not when they're alone and things are dangerous. "This is not about that," his voice is quiet but steady. They both stare at his fingers on her skin. "We're not back to normal."

She gives him a hooded look, "Harvey."

"I don't want us back to normal."

Before she has the time to retreat, he gives her arm a tug and kisses her. She can't believe he's actually done it because her lips are motionless against his for a moment. But it's only for a moment and then he feels her kiss him back, chaste and soft but undeniably there. He slides his hand down her wrist and threads their fingers together, his other hand slipping around her waist and he can feel her breath hitch when he drags his lips against hers, kisses her again.

She breaks apart but stays right there, looking at him with that same resigned knowledge of months ago, and he's sure he's right when he says, "You lied." He can see her starting to panic, but the hell he's stopping now, now that he knows. "When you said you didn't feel anything. That was a lie."

Donna takes a step back and he lets her. "Harvey."

"Why?"

"Why?" She sounds incredulous.

"Yeah. Why did you lie?"

"Because," she runs her hand through her hair. "Because, you were in a relationship. And you shut me down and you were so angry and I panicked, okay. I panicked because I lost you as a," she bites the inside of her cheek, sighs, "and I didn't want to lose you as a friend, too."

He nods. "I'm sorry." He is. Has been since that morning after she kissed him and he needs her to know that. "I was angry with you, but I was really angry with myself." He thinks back on that night. On how much he wanted her. "With how you made me feel."

"Like you cheated."

He shakes his head, "Like I was making a huge mistake." His jaw clenches, "Like I'd been making the same mistake for years."

Her eyes are wide as she asks quietly, "Harvey, what's going on?"

"I'm tired of this, Donna. Of everything ending and everyone leaving." His voice is soft as he finishes, "Everyone except you."

Donna nods and he thinks she gets it, but it's clear to him she's drawn all the wrong conclusions when she says, "Gee, Harvey. That just makes me feel so special."

"Donna, what -" he starts, but she waves her hand to stop him.

"That's great, that you're finally looking to commit, or whatever? But I've been doing some thinking myself, and what I've come to realize is that I want to be someone's first choice for once, not your last resort." He looks at her, his mouth hanging open, as she goes for the door. "So, if we can just –"

Regaining his senses, he spins around, "Are you serious?" He can tell by her face as she turns to him that she is and it devastates him. That she really, honestly doesn't know.

"Look, Harvey, I get it." He's pretty sure she most certainly does not, but she continues before he can interrupt, "I've been in your life for a long time, I know you, it's safe. I'm safe. But that's not –"

"It's actually pretty damn impressive how wrong you are," he snorts humorlessly. This woman will be the death of him. "You think you're safe? No. Paula, she was safe." That gets her attention. He doesn't avert his eyes, as badly as he wants to; he owes her as much. "She understood my issues and she understood who I wanted to be, but – and this really clinched it - I wasn't in love with her. She was safe. You, on the other hand," and now he takes a step forward because he's making himself clear if it's the only thing he does here tonight. "You're the most uncalculated risk I've ever taken. Let's be real, I'm not great at this, and you know that better than anyone. If I screw this up and lose you," he trails off, swallowing. In his mind, he's watching her walk away from his office and away from him and over to Louis, and he wonders if she's thinking about that, too. He doesn't bring it up, doesn't want to dwell on what a mess he was as a result; he's terrified enough as it is. He spreads his arms, lets them fall to his sides, "And yet, here I am. So would you just," he cocks his head, "see that?"

They stand there in silence, just looking at each other. Her face is motionless and he is once again clueless about what she's thinking. But at least now she knows.

When it doesn't look like they'll get anywhere tonight, he sighs, "Okay, well then, I guess –"

"I won't let you," the words are quiet and final. They get his attention. "Screw this up," she elaborates and her smile is barely there but it lights up her face. It lights up the room. "What? I've been saving your ass for years, you think this is where I drop the ball?"

The corner of his mouth tugs, amused. Relieved. "You know," he muses as he takes a step forward, regarding her. "When it comes to relationships, your track record isn't all that stellar, either."

She chews her lip, looks like she's weighing something in her mind, and he sees the moment she reaches a decision. It looks a lot like surrender. "That's because my heart wasn't in it."

They're getting to it now, finally. He takes another step towards her. "Where was it?"

She blinks once, slowly. "You know where, Harvey."

Another step and this one brings him right in front of her, close enough to touch. He does, reaching for her waist he gives it a gentle tug, his eyes never leaving hers. "Good," he tucks a hair behind her ear and smiles.

"Good."

The word is barely out before he's pressing his lips against hers and backing her up against her front door. There's a desperate edge to the kiss, their lips parting immediately, and the taste of her is something different now than it was twelve and a half years ago. She's not wearing the same lip gloss, for starters, but she's also not the same girl she was back then. Back then, she was His Girl Friday and his moral compass and someone he was a little bit in love with. Now, though. Now she was his partner and his friend and his core and a woman he never could manage to stop loving. He'll never tell her any of that, not in as many words, so he does his best to show her. Her head falls back against the door as he kisses her with open mouth and tongue and teeth; her breath hitches as he leans into her, his fingers on her neck, on her hip.

"We should," she moans when his teeth graze her earlobe and he grins. "We should probably take this to the bedroom. Or the couch. Somewhere more comfortable."

"I don't know," he murmurs in her ear, "I like it here." He sucks behind her earlobe and feels her knees buckle, just a little. Just enough. "I've had some pretty wild fantasies about this door over the years."

A short laugh escapes her, "First it's the other time, now this. Seems like you fantasize about me a fair bit."

He smiles into her neck, "Seems like."

"Aren't we a little too Fortune 500 to be making out against the door?"

He pulls back to frown at her, "Has leading a top New York law firm tamed you, Donna?"

"Top?" she challenges and he looks at her smugly. She gives his arm a slap. "No", she draws out, rolling her eyes, "But my thirties have."

Her smile is reaching her eyes and she looks happier than he's seen her in longer than he cares to consider, and he can't fucking believe all the time – a decade - they've wasted on bullshit, when it could have been this. It's a sobering moment and it must show because she's cupping his cheek and looking at him in that way that tells him she gets it. "We've both been pretty dumb," she shrugs and she's right there with him, shouldering it, like she always does. Her fingers ghost up to caress his brow. "I don't want to dwell, Harvey. I just want," her eyes dance over his face, "This," she sighs finally.

He tilts his head and he's never loved her more than in that moment. Moving her hand from his face and taking it in his, he pulls her to him and over to where he remembers her bedroom to be.

"What about the door fantasy," she quips.

He shoots her a smirk, "Oh, I've had you on pretty much every surface in this apartment." They pass the sofa and he gives it a little pat. It makes her laugh. "And mine. And the office."

"Sounds like we've been busy."

He steps behind her and holds her waist as he walks them into her bedroom, his chin on her shoulder, murmuring into her hair, "Surprisingly so." Once inside, he turns her around and is stunned by just how beautiful she is. His hands knead her sides, run up her ribs and down again, squeeze. He can't believe he can do that now. "I meant it when I said you do it for me."

"Technically, you said strawberries and whipped cream."

"I didn't want to be too forward."

"No, god forbid," she laughs, her eyes wide with implication.

He knows he's been giving her crumbs for years and yet she's always somehow known him anyway. He guesses he'll probably always be a little closed off, a little difficult to live with, and equally he knows she'll see through his bullshit without any help from him. Here, in her bedroom – and he notices she didn't re-decorate this space; makes a note to ask her about that later – where he first started falling in love with her, he decides to try. Chewing the inside of his bottom lip, he tells her, "It wasn't just sex, you know." She looks surprised at that. She really has no idea. He feels uncomfortable, but her room is dark and he soldiers on. "It's always been about you. You're the fantasy."

Her palms run up his chest, his jaw, looping at the back of his neck. Barefoot she's smaller and she pushes off the floor just a little, her mouth warm on his. It reminds him of the last time she kissed him. Except now, he doesn't have to fight the impulse to reciprocate and he does so readily, his arms circling her waist, his palms flat and firm as they make their way up her back, pressing her to him. Her mouth opens and he feels her tongue against his, his hands finding their way into her hair, and as she walks them backwards to the bed, he can't help but think he could definitely get used to being more forthcoming.

They break apart and the only light in the room is the one from the hallway, but it's enough for him to see she looks as affected as he feels. Donna is an actress and a control freak, never quite letting go, always a little obscure herself. But her cheeks are flushed and she's trying to catch her breath and her eyes are full of him; his heart is full of her. She knows him better than anyone; he knows her pretty damn well right back.

Without breaking eye contact, he kisses along the inside of her wrist. "What about you?" She watches his lips open and trail across it, and it's a faint touch but he can see she's struggling to keep her eyes focused. "Did you think about me?" he breathes against her skin as his mouth moves up to kiss along her palm.

The question seems to break her out of her daze, and her eyes are on his, wide and earnest, and she's not cracking a joke, not breaking the moment as she whispers, "Sometimes. Yes."

The words fill the space between them and Harvey feels them everywhere. He kisses the pads of her fingers, one by one, innocent and completely in contrast with what he actually wants to do right now. But he's waited this long and he wants to hear. "Awhile?" She gives a reluctant nod. "Pearson Specter?" She's looking away. "Pearson Hardman?" She sighs. "The DA's office?"

"Kinda," she replies; his mouth stills on a digit. "That night we met?" He waits for her to continue, but she only raises an eyebrow, smirking. That is the answer.

His eyebrows raise in smug surprise, "Really?"

She's shaking her head, groaning "Forget I said anything."

"Yeah, I don't think so," he gives her palm a wet smiling kiss. This is incredible. "I knew you were into me."

"I was hardly into you," she rolls her eyes, pulling her hand away to work on his shirt buttons. "And you were the one who propositioned me ten minutes after we met."

"Twelve."

Her fingers pause halfway down his shirt, "What is it with you and timekeeping?"

"I just have immaculate attention to detail." She's pushing his shirt off his shoulders and he's tugging her top out of her pants. He leans in to whisper in her ear, "A trait you will come to appreciate. A lot."

The sound she makes is somewhere between a chuckle and a moan. It's a great sound.

Running his hands up her sides, he pushes the thin material up and over her head. His mouth falls to her bare shoulder, kissing her skin, running his tongue over her freckles and down her chest. A grunt escapes him as he kisses just above her bra, but he doesn't linger, not now, instead sinks to his knees to pull down her pants. She holds his shoulder to step out of them and then he's left on his knees and Donna in nothing but her underwear.

Putting his hands on her hips, he hooks a forefinger on each side of her black panties, plays with the lace. "Wow."

"Better than your fantasies?" she teases.

He looks up at her, her hair falling around her face as she smiles at him - happy, and his, and real - and he's breathless. "Every single one."

Running his hands up her waist and then everywhere – he can't keep still, feels the need to constantly touch – he stands up and kisses her. It's hard to do because she's smiling which makes him smile, and this is hopeless. They're hopeless.

Letting out a little chuckle, she sits down on the bed and starts to work on his pants, button then the zip and shit, he's almost embarrassed at how hard he is already. She looks up at him, chewing on her lower lip, and his cock twitches next to her hand. Her tongue darts out and his cock twitches again.

"Someone seems eager," she notes.

"It's been a long time coming," he observes and he doesn't mean it as a pun, but she laughs anyway.

"That it has," she pulls his pants down, then his underwear, his cock hard in front of her. "That it has."

She wets her lips and he watches mesmerized as she engulfs the tip of his cock, giving it a gentle suck. Closing his eyes, Harvey releases a groan. Fuck. Fuck.

"Fuck. Donna," he stills her head with a gentle hand. "I don't think that's such a good idea."

She gives him another suck then pulls back, "Wow. Really? That's impressive."

"Thank you."

"I meant me."

"Of course you did," he steps out of his clothes and, hooking his arms under her knees, pushes her up on the bed. He's naked and she still has her bra and her panties on and that won't do. "You're overdressed."

"Then take it off."

He groans at her words, at the challenging look she's giving him. His fingers skim the strap of her bra, inching it off her shoulder, his mouth following the path. He does the same with her right shoulder, his cock hard against the lace between her legs, and he feels her hips buck up to meet him as he thumbs down the cups, grazing her nipples deliberately. Reaching behind her, he unclasps it, pulls it off.

Catching her eye, he lowers his lips to her left nipple, already hard, dragging the lower lip up and down and around it and she stifles a moan. He takes that as a challenge, flicking his tongue out, using his teeth, as his left palm rubs circles on her other nipple. He's rewarded with a deep guttural sound from Donna, and he can't help it, he rubs his cock up her thigh and over her pussy and her nails dig into his biceps. He thrusts again.

Reaching between them, he rubs his fingers over her clit, massaging it through the material. Dipping down, his fingers skim across her entrance and she's so wet, fuck. He looks up to see her watching him. "Okay?" he asks.

She nods, smiles. "Yeah."

"What do you want, Donna?"

"You, inside me." She moves her hand down his forearm, takes his hand away and places it on her hip, "Take them off."

"You know, you'd make an excellent managing partner," he accentuates his words with a press of his fingers on her clit. "So decisive."

She snorts, "I already am, you guys just need to catch up." She swirls her hips into his hand. "Now do as you're told."

He grins so broadly, his face feels like it's splitting, "Fuck, that's so hot."

Kneeling above her legs, he does what she asks, slowly, deliberately, and he can tell she's impatient but this has been a dream for too damn long to hurry. A moment, and she's naked underneath him, and her skin is pale and flushed, and she's looking up at him with open vulnerability that's been off limits since the kiss. Since her promotion. Hell, if he's honest, since the time he told her he loved her and never followed through. The moment feels a lot like a second chance.

He tugs her to him as he sits back on the bed. She straddles him, his cock between their bellies, but he's not worrying about that now. He brushes her hair back, watching his thumb caressing her cheek, tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"You don't have to say it."

He looks up at her solemn face. "What if I want to?"

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, her thumb under his ear, "Then I'll be happy to hear it."

Leaning into the touch, he mutters, "I made such a mess of it last time."

"Yeah," she smiles. "You kinda did."

But she's dismissing it, doesn't want to dwell he remembers, and she goes to move, but he stays her hip. "I meant it." He pauses until she's looking at him. "When I said," he inclines his head and, shit, he's botching this. "Then. And now."

Her face is still, only her eyes darting between his, and he realizes she's not taking a moment because she's doubting him. She just probably never thought she'd hear it from him again. Which, after tonight and in their current position seems incredible, but then, there's a lot of history there they have to work with and work against.

Pulling his head closer, she kisses him and then she's lifting her hips, rubbing against his erection in the process, and he loses his train of thought and then he loses his mind as she brings herself over his cock and, taking him in hand, lowers herself on him. She sinks down and he's completely buried inside her.

"Don't you want to know how?"

She looks down between them. "I think that's fairly obvious, don't you?"

He huffs and shakes his head and she's definitely not going to let him screw this up and, "God I love you."

Her hands on his face, she isn't hiding her smile; she can trust this. She starts to move. His arms encircle her and hers are around his neck, her hands combing through the hair at the back of his head as they breathe against each other's lips and she moves on top of him. Her legs are wrapped around his middle and there isn't a part of him that isn't touching any part of her. He thought about this moment a lot but nothing he conjured up could even come close to them rocking together, slow and gentle at first, getting used to each other again. His hands roaming her back and hers drifting down to his shoulders as she sets a faster pace. Harvey presses his lips to her throat, tastes her skin, feels her pulse, his hand snaking between them and to her clit and, "Oh. Harvey, I'm-"

She fastens the pace, her clit rubbing against his fingers as she moves, and he can feel her orgasm building, feels her tightening around him, feels his own orgasm approaching as he rubs her clit and she digs her nails into the skin of his back. A beat, two and she's coming around his cock and holding onto him, and he snakes an arm around her waist to ground her.

"Can I?" he asks and she nods and shit. He thrusts into her once, twice, his mouth finding hers, closing around her top lip, and he's coming inside her, and he finally knows.

This is what making love feels like.

.

The other time, they didn't really sleep and he left before breakfast. This time is nothing like that time.

He's laying on his back while she goes to the bathroom, dozing off to the sounds of her. He feels the bed dip next to him and he reaches a hand out, his fingers finding her hand, pulling her in.

"Harvey Specter, a cuddler," she teases, propping herself up on her elbow, smiling down at him.

"Donna Paulsen, a pain in the ass." He closes his eyes again, feeling her settle against his side.

"Right. I don't know how you've put up with me all these years." He can hear her rolling her eyes.

"Beats me," he holds her hand between them. "Must be all the love."

.

Harvey wakes up in Donna's bed, decidedly alone and decidedly not dreaming. He has morning wood, but he also needs to pee, and that's not usually dream material. Sitting up, he hears the rustling in the kitchen, a clatter of a cup and Donna swearing under her breath.

Definitely not a dream.

He grins when he hears her coming.

Donna enters the bedroom with two cups of coffee and his shirt that has what looks like a ketchup stain down it. That or she's stabbed someone in the kitchen. His grin widens. This is definitely real.

"Is there a dead body out there?" He motions at his (her) shirt. "Do you need a lawyer? Cause I know a good one. Great in bed."

"Yeah, I already called Samantha," she smirks, bringing him the coffee and sitting down on the bed. "She can't wait to prove herself on her first case since being named partner."

"Ha ha," he smiles behind the cup. "You should be a comedian."

"Pass. I much prefer exerting my power over you."

He takes a sip of the coffee. It has vanilla and possibly some ketchup, too; it's perfect. "I've noticed that. You know," he muses, his free hand tugging at his (her) shirt, "we can always just go back to how we were."

"You mean, back to you pining for me."

"I think you'll find it was you who was pining for me."

She rubs her lips together, palming the side of his face. She looks happy. "Nothing changes, huh."

Scanning her face, he realizes she's right. As usual. "No," he tucks her hair behind her ear. "Nothing much changes at all."

Her fingers brush along his jaw, "I've loved you for such a long time, Harvey."

She takes his breath away. She's the only one who ever has. "Good. That means you're unlikely to stop."

"I'd say the chances of that are pretty slim at this point."

"So what you're saying is that I'm stuck with you."

Her eyebrows shoot up at that. "What I'm saying," she draws out. "Is that you are one lucky bastard."

He bites his bottom lip, grinning, "Can't argue with that."

"Living the dream."

He threads his fingers into the hair at the back of her head, brings her in until their noses are touching. Mutters against her lips, "You don't know the half of it."

.

fin.