A/N: Hey guys, so this is something a little different. This isn't a crossover, but I'm basically just borrowing one of my fave characters- Dr. Lance Sweets from Bones- and placing him in this darvey story. There's no other Bones characters because this is strictly a Suits/darvey story. I'm only bringing in Sweets- who's a psychologist for those you don't know- because I feel like darvey could have really benefited from his expertise and at the moment darvey are- in quite need of some help since they're still not together, lord help us all.

Side note, Sweets died in season 10 of Bones but for the sake of this story (and selfish reasons tbh) that is not the case in this story, obviously.

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this story, and you'll love Sweets as much as I do.

…

Dr. Lance Sweets glanced between his two newest patients and a wave of deja vu washed over him. He wasn't foreign to this type of therapy session- thanks namely to two of his now dearest friends. But there was something different he still couldn't quite ascertain about these two who sat in front of him. Out of a habit that was hard to shake off, he'd already started forming a profile on them solely based on how they presented themselves- both individually and together- since arriving mere minutes ago. They'd barely uttered anything outside of their formal greetings, but he could already tell they were going to be as difficult- if not more- to crack than his previous most success story.

He watches the man, Harvey Specter- notorious lawyer and name partner- squirming in his seat, and he sighs, placing a friendly smile on his face, "Mr. Specter, would you like to start?"

"No."

"Harvey,"

"What, Donna? This is ridiculous, we shouldn't be here."

The woman in question rolls her eyes. Dr. Sweets watches as she remains seated, legs crossed over her maroon dress, head tilting to the side allowing her auburn hair to obscure her view of her colleague.

Sweets nods, years of practicing psychology and dealing with an array of patients and criminals having taught him how to be patient- something he felt that one or neither of his newest patients were keen on practicing.

"Ms. Paulsen," he turns to Donna, giving her the same encouraging smile he'd given to Harvey, "would you like to-"

"I wouldn't even know where to start," she scoffs.

"Okay…" Sweets drags out the word, a futile attempt to give himself the time to formulate a plan to deal with these two in front of him. Clearing his throat as an idea starts to form, he leans forward in his armed chair, "Why don't we try something?"

When both sets of eyes blink expectedly at him, he continues, "Would you two please stand up?"

"Do we get to leave early?" Harvey sighs as he stands. His eyes glance around the room, noting the bland gray walls with a few frames showcasing landscapes. He wasn't unfamiliar with stepping into a therapist's office, and he was starting to become irritated by the prospect of having to be in yet another room to deal with issues he'd rather not even acknowledge existed.

"No, Mr. Specter," Sweets states calmly, glancing at Donna who was now standing next to her colleague, a forlorn expression on her face, "I want you two to conduct a little experiment for me."

"What? Act like your guinea pigs or something?"

"Harvey, just let him talk."

Harvey rolls his eyes, but grows silent, fidgeting with his tie. Sweets takes notice of the exchange, and makes a mental note to write about it in the notebook he keeps on his desk later. Right now, he didn't want to disrupt the little progress they may be forming. "Okay, I want you two to face each other," when Harvey fixes him with a look, Sweets gives him a nod to which the man in question sighs in defeat, turning to face Donna who was already in position. "Good," Sweets smiles, "now, bring your hands up and just touch them to each other," he brings his own hands up to demonstrate, widening his fingers slightly.

"What?"

"Harvey, if you're going to be like this the entire time…"

"This is just- you know what? Fine," Harvey relents with a sigh. He allows himself to fully face Donna then, placing his hands against hers as told. His eyes land on Donna's for a second, and he feels a twinge in his heart for what he sees then. Anger. Fear. Sadness. Something akin to guilt and confusion and irritation.

Her touch ignites something in him he wishes he could ignore, whilst tempting him to link his hands through hers and pull her against him, for fear she would stray further away from him.

"Good, that's perfect," Sweets observes, watching as they do as told. His hands are touching in a mirror image, wanting to keep them attentive, "now, keeping your backs straight, I want you two to lean in…"

"No, no," Harvey lets out a humorless laugh, parting from Donna.

"Harvey," she nearly growls as she grabs his wrists, "Just do as he says, he knows what he's doing, he's the professional here."

Harvey scoffs, "That's debatable. He barely looks old enough to drive."

Sweets leans back in his chair, more than accustomed to this form of hazing from some of his male patients, "I'll have you know I'm thirty, I got my doctorate in psychology at-"

"That's great and all, Sweets, but we came here for counseling, not- some perverse role playing for whatever twisted mind games you have."

"They're not mind games, Mr. Specter, they're well researched therapeutic activities based on my dissertation on job stress that-"

"No offense, I'm sure mom's real proud of you and all, but do we really have to listen to this psyco babble right now?"

"Harvey!"

"What? You can't really take him seriously. Guy looks like he just got off the school bus…" Harvey smirks, sitting back down next to Donna.

"Real mature, Harvey," Donna scoffs, shaking her head. She turns to Sweets, "I'd like to apologize on behalf of my- colleague, Dr. Sweets, he didn't mean-"

Sweets shakes his head, "That's quite alright, Ms. Paulsen."

"Please, you can call me Donna," she smiles at the younger man.

"Of course, Donna. Your colleague Mr. Specter here-" he turns to Harvey to see if he would suggest he call him by his first name, but the man barely bats an eye, "-was just expressing his- feelings to me. In whatever form he could right now."

"…right. Can you just- write us a note or sign a paper or whatever so we can leave and I can have a Friday night?"

Sweets turns to Harvey, noting the way he jiggles his leg with impatience, feet facing the side as if he were planning a getaway, "I'm afraid that isn't possible, Mr. Specter. Your boss, Mr. Zane-"

Harvey scoffs, "He is not my boss."

"Right. Your colleague, expressed his concerns that you two-" he points his fingers at them, "-are not cooperating at work as you should. You've been arguing incessantly and without regard to those around you."

"That's bullish-"

"Harvey!"

"That's interesting," Sweets notes, nodding at the two of them.

"What? No, nothing is 'interesting'" Harvey air quotes, shooting the young psychologist a glare that was mirrored by the one Donna was sending him.

"So, you deny that you and Ms- Donna have been arguing?"

Harvey opens his mouth but closes it all at once, taking a quick glance at Donna who was now fiddling with her hands.

Sweets nods, noting that he wasn't about to get a clear and direct answer on the matter from either of them. "You don't have to talk about anything that doesn't feel comfortable right now. Today is about me getting a feel, more or less, about the two of you and what brings you in. Obviously, we have a lot of things to talk about and get to the bottom of, but Rome wasn't built in a day, so," he turns to the side, grabbing hold of two packets. "I want you two to complete these questionnaires before our session next week," he hands one to Donna and the other to Harvey, but when the lawyer doesn't budge, he sets it on the table between them. "This will help me asses where you two are in your relationship with one another-"

"We aren't in a relationship."

The room grows quiet at Harvey's sudden admission, Sweets tilting his head at the man, "I meant your- working relationship, unless there was something I was missing here?" He watches with acute interest as the pair glance at each other before looking away just as quickly. He nods, "Again, there's obviously a lot of tension right now, and I can understand why the fear of the unknown due to miscommunications can lead to a lot of scary feelings that we, as humans, don't want to-"

Harvey shakes his head, chuckling, "I do not have any scary feelings. Maybe you have some scary feelings and need a night light to help you sleep, but,"

"Harvey, stop trying to intimidate the boy."

Sweets' lips turn thin, trying hard not to show how amused he was by the exchange.

"Something funny there, kid?" Harvey glares at him.

Sweets shakes his head, "You two just- you remind me a lot of these friends I have-"

"That's nice, can we leave?"

"I'd like to remind you, Mr. Specter, that I'm the therapist in the room, and if this had been a decade ago, your attempts at trying to intimidate me with your comments might have worked but," he leans back against his chair, hands linking in front of him, "I'm sure you can look up the rate of my success stories with interpersonal relationships in the work place, as well as successful profiling for the FBI. You two have a lot to work through. Now, I may not know you as well as I would like to yet, but that's all in due time. I'd like to help you with whatever it is that's standing in the way of your work relationship, and perhaps even personal," he pauses to asses their reactions, noticing how they both hesitate to glance at each other before looking back at him, "but I can't do that if you keep resisting. I can only help if you want the help."

Harvey goes to respond when Donna beats him to it, "Of course, Dr. Sweets. We appreciate you taking your time to do this."

Sweets nods, glancing at Harvey, "Mr. Specter?"

Harvey rolls his eyes, leaning forward to run a hand through his hair, "What the hell, beats sitting at work listening to Louis ranting about nanny interviews."

Sweets smiles, clapping his hands, "Perfect. Now, you have the questionnaires I assigned you. I don't normally like to spend too long during the first session, not until these are filled out so I can get a better feel for my patients. So, please fill them out and mail them to me, and don't look at each other's answers. These are for your individual eyes to me, and I'll share my collective findings when we resume in a week."

Donna nods, "Sounds good."

They both turn to Harvey, waiting expectedly for his response. He glances at the man in front of him and the woman by his side, giving him that all too familiar and uncanny glare, "What? I'll fill out your little book thing. Now can we leave?"

…

Donna rushes out of the room that led into a smaller office, swiftly making her way into the parking lot with a haste, not bothering to wait for Harvey. She was rummaging through her purse, looking for her keys when she sees a shadow appear in front of her.

She chuckles, shaking her head, "Unbelievable."

"What was that?"

"I said you are unbelievable," her head shoots up to stare at him, eyes tired and miffed as he sighs.

"Why, Donna?"

"You're shitting me, right?" She huffs, pulling out her keys with more haste than intended, nearly ripping the inside of expensive tan leather. "I know you can be outright oblivious, but you can't be that dense."

Harvey looks away for a moment, a mix of anger and guilt brewing inside and he sets his jaw, trying to reign in as much control as he could muster, "I don't know what you want me to say."

"I want you to admit it!"

"Admit what?" He bellows, not noticing a few lone patrons around them stopping for a moment, their nosy eyes peering over to see the couple bickering in the parking lot mid-day.

"That you're jealous!" Her screech makes him widen his eyes, but just as quickly he tries to mask it, but he knows she's caught on to his demeanor, watching her deflating but not necessarily backtracking.

"I thought we talked about this," he continues on more quietly.

Donna shifts on her spot, her boots starting to make her toes ache, the pain carrying through to the rest of her body until it sits uncomfortably on her chest, making her breathing sharp. "Apparently not enough."

"So, is that why we're here? Why you dragged me all the way out to see some shrink that will pick at our brains and," he lifts up the stack of papers Dr. Sweets had handed out to each of them, "give us homework?"

Her hazel eyes pierce through him, darkened and tired with just enough patience that scares him into wondering if they'd ever reach an old kind of normalcy that's long since wavered. "I didn't drag you into anything, Harvey," she starts cooly, "Robert was the one to call us into his office, suggesting we see someone who might actually help us figure out whatever shit we have going through right now-"

"That's bullshit and you know it!"

Donna backtracks at his words, throwing up a hand a mirthless smile, "I can't talk to you like this." Before he knows it, she's turning around, but he's quick enough to grab hold of her arm, making her stop in her tracks with a heavy sigh, "Don't."

"Donna," he says quietly, but firmly.

"I know why we're here," she goes on, voice more steady than she feels at the moment. She's turned back around now, staring into Harvey's confused and pleading eyes, willing herself not to breakdown for whatever mess they'd thrown themselves in. "And I know you know why we're here too. You just don't want to admit it because it's your goddamn fault."

She sees a flash of hurt in his eyes, and for a second, she's regretting her words, thinks they came out more harshly than intended. But she replays their ongoing arguments for the past two weeks in her mind, remembers how embarrassed she felt when Robert called them both into his office in the middle of a partners meeting one day, one day after too many days of harsh words and arguments they both knew were pointless and secretly directed toward an underlaying issue both were too scared to address.

She felt like a school girl, being called into the principal's office for playing too roughly at recess with her best friend. Robert had glanced between them, annoyed and irritated that two of the firm's highest ranking employees were nearly at each other's throats every damn time they were in the same room together. And before either of them could come up with a lame rebuttal, he'd scolded them just enough to convince them to go see someone who could help. Calling in for a favor to see a friend of a friend who was a psychologist that had recently moved into the city- who's had experiences in "helping people like you sort out their shit in the workplace- and person lives."

Donna had watched Harvey from her vantage point, a counterargument forming in his eyes before she placed a hand on his leg, surprising them both and giving Harvey just enough of a momentary sedative to make him relent and agree to go see someone so they could figure things out- and maybe fix whatever they could from the rubble of their wavering friendship. She was still half surprised when he had shown up, willing, albeit barely, to go see a psychologist.

"I'm tired, Harvey," she continues softly, and if it weren't for their close proximity, he may not have heard her, "and I know you are too."

He sighs with a finality that makes her breath hold and heart crack just a bit, but he squeezes her hand gently before letting it fall to her side. He opens his mouth to say something, but they're interrupted by her phone ringing.

Donna hesitates for a moment, briefly considering letting the call go to voicemail before she glances down, reaching into her purse to grab her phone.

"You should get that," Harvey tells her softly, a ghost of his smile on his lips before he turns to walk away.

"Harvey-"

"I'll see you Monday, Donna."

And just like that, he's turning and walking away, guilt and frustration making the already formed lump in her throat pulse in a way that makes her feels nauseous. With another sigh, she closes her eyes, swiping her phone to answer her call.

"Hey, Thomas." She plasters on a fake smile, hoping it could mask the shakiness of her voice, hoping it could somehow end up fooling her brain into thinking that she wasn't as broken as she felt. She tries to let his words filter through her mind, listening intently as he tells her about his day, before he's asking about hers. She lets his words hang in the air for a moment, glancing at her own stack of papers Sweets had handed to her moments earlier.

Reading the first question makes her bite her lip, clutching the papers tight enough to form creases, and she's shoving them into her giant purse before making her way toward her car.

"Yeah, no, I- I left work early. It was a slow day, so I'm heading home now." Donna hears her boyfriend relaying plans for them, voice calm and otherwise soothing as he voices excitement to see her later. She nods along, smiling and nodding, but not quite listening to his words as a newfound guilt forms in the pit of her stomach.

"Question 1: Have you ever let your personal life affect your work relationships, and vice versa?"

…

Thoughts?