Strangers in Boston

A Donna & Harvey fanfiction

The entire journey had been quite adventurous. Harvey had no idea if it had been his heart or his stupidity – or both – that had led him to show up unannounced; to say something he shouldn't have which had gotten him staring at that God awful shabby airport hotel room to get the earliest flight out of Boston in the morning. She didn't have a meeting and neither did he. Donna Roberta Paulsen just wanted to get as far away from him as possible.

24 hours ago

"What do you want, Harvey?" Katrina asked, circling her desk, head buried in some file.

"I want Donna," he told her flat out.

She eyed him quizzically and mumbled: "Like we don't know that."

"– in my office twenty min –" Harvey frowned, thinking he had indeed heard her right. "What did you just say to me?"

She sat at her desk, dropping her files. "Are you THAT helpless when she's not around? What do you need her for?"

"Not around? What do you mean she's not around? She's always around."

"Didn't Louis tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"He sent her to Boston to sign D&M on his behalf…"

Harvey had no idea what Louis was up to these days. It had never been on his list of priorities to know everything the recently appointed managing partner did these days. Suggesting Specter should go mudding with Litt soon while making sure the latter couldn't get his membership back was Harvey's current favorite pastime. "D&M?"

Katrina sighed at the former managing partner's lack of interest in Ballet King, mentor extraordinaire and savior of the firm Louis Litt. "It's a sports management firm, they're expanding and will be in Manhattan by next month," she explained.

"Since when does Louis poach in sports management?" Harvey looked at her bewildered.

"I'll have you know Louis enjoys fair brutality as much as the next man." Katrina jutted her chin out.

Harvey blinked at her words. The partner was starting to frighten him more than the balder, shorter version. "I'll never doubt it again," he half-lied, fearing for his life.

"Good." Katrina smiled, proud of herself for standing up to the legendary hot shot.

Harvey breathed in sharply, cocked his head to the side and said firmly: "Back to Donna."

Katrina gulped for she knew that stance. Harvey Specter had just entered combat mode. Whatever information he wanted. He would get it out of her.

"It's not really part of her job which means it's a done deal. Second and by that I really mean THEREFORE why on Earth didn't he just ask Gretchen to send out the paperwork?" Harvey asked, finding the situation hard to believe.

Katrina bit her upper lip. "Louis was invited to their fundraiser but couldn't attend. He was going to ask you to go but…"

"But?"

"One of the shareholders specifically asked for Donna to attend their fundraiser."

"Why? Her quick repartee?" He spat out. He really meant her looks. It was a low blow. He was bitter. He knew Donna was so much more than that. And many a man would notice. All the time. This was the premise of some deeply buried jealousy. He regretted it the second he said it.

"You're unbelievable," Katrina let out, frustrated. "I can't believe how jea- possessive you are."

"I'm not… I just don't get why–"

"They're an old acquaintance of Donna's," she cut him off before adding: "It was approved by Louis because any lawyer can see it's a sign of good faith. They want us to represent them."

"You mean they want her…" The thoughts escaped him.

"Yes, our COO, Harvey! She's helped Louis tremendously on that contract. She deserves the recognition just as much as Louis does," Katrina defended.

"What's his name?" Harvey pressed, assuming it was a man.

"She warned me you'd be like this…"

"Like what?"

"Fishing for information."

He balled his hand into a fist. "What's his name, Katrina? Or so help me God –"

She cut him off. Her loyalty to Donna was one thing but her case wasn't going to work itself. "Meadows..."

The name was familiar to him. "As in Mark Meadows?"

"Yes, her ex-boyfriend." Katrina nodded.

"So she told you about him." A six-month-relationship douche without any balls; that's how Harvey remembered him.

"Donna and I know a lot about each other. We communicate on our feelings," Katrina stressed, challenging him; daring him to go further.

"Does she… did she tell you… about…" he began and Katrina's eyes went wide. That was an unexpected turn of events.

Katrina wanted nothing but to text Donna about this. Him acknowledging he had an intimate past with her friend. But the woman prided herself with being clear-headed, straightforward and focusing on the probabilities instead of the odds. "You should talk to her."

"Okay." It was all Harvey said before turning on his heels.

"Okay? Is this all you have to say?"

"I'm going to go over there and talk to her," he explained.

Katrina shook her head in disbelief. "I thought you'd just call her."

He averted his eyes from her. "That would defy the point of talking to her face to face."

She had to let this go. But one question was still pending. "Harvey?"

"Yes?" hHe asked pensively, looking back at her this time.

"What was it you needed Donna for?" Blunt. To the point. Katrina Bennett ladies and gentlemen.

He sighed. "Perspective."

Even though the former managing partner didn't answer her question, it was answer enough. And a big one at that. Katrina bit her bottom lip at the thought that need just didn't cover it anymore for the great Harvey Specter.

"Gretchen, do you have a minute?" Harvey asked, meeting her at her cubicle."Not you too!" Gretchen almost cried out.

"What?" He frowned.

"Louis just spent the last thirty minutes talking to me about ballet training for newborns, I've had it with questions and requests over things that have nothing to do with work!"

"How can you be sure what I need isn't work-related?"

She rolled her eyes. "Because you always come to me when Donna's not around which means somehow this has to do with her."

"Well for your information it's work-related. I need D&M's headquarters address and I also need to know where tomorrow's fundraiser is. Louis asked me to go represent the firm too."

"No he didn't. I know because he told me not to ask you in the end." She sat back at her desk and took out a pen to write everything down. She began scribbling down on a piece of paper. "There you go and I added where Donna's staying."

"I didn't –"

She ripped the post-it upwards off the stack, stood up and handed him the precious information forcefully.

"Spare me that nonsense. You don't care about Louis's client. Now I'm going home for the night Mr. Specter," she said, picking up her bag. "Enjoy the work-related weekend," she quipped, laughing while heading for the elevators.

Harvey quickly returned home and booked a flight for the next morning. Once he was done packing a light suitcase, he unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, rolled up his sleeves and made dinner. He thought about calling her.

As soon as he was done eating, he took a shower. He thought about her while in there too. His brain had gone haywire – confused and debating between Mark slamming her against her fancy hotel room door, concluding the kind of business he wanted to be the one conducting and throwing punches at the ex. Harvey rubbed his neck a few times and allowed his brain and hand to wander – mind set on her – the way he hadn't allowed himself to in years. He erased Mark and her body looked twelve years younger. Not that he could compare. He looked like a prune by the time he was done taking care of his fantasies.

He put a shirt and his boxers on before sliding into bed. It was midnight when he couldn't bear not knowing anymore, acted on his thoughts and decided to call her. She was used to him calling her in the middle of the night anyway. The phone rang five times before she picked up.

"I expected that call sooner," Donna answered straight away.

"I've been busy," he lied.

"I'm sure," she quipped.

Her laughter came off as seductive to his ears. It was soothing. He licked his lips and said: "I hear you're in Boston."

"I sure am."

He didn't know what else to say.

"Harvey?" she asked.

"Are you alone?" It came out of nowhere. Or maybe not so much.

"My male-escort just left, thanks for asking."

She must have taken it as usual flirting on his part but she must have heard him sigh in relief anyway.

He tried to keep the charade going. "What are you wearing?"

He could tell she was rolling her eyes. "What's going on, Harvey?"

"How's Mark?" He brought his hand to his forehead, painfully aware there was no coming back from this question.

"Who told you?"

"Are we playing twenty questions without answers now?"

She sighed. "He's… fine. Very pleased with being represented by us."

"When are you coming home?"

The home part seemed to have taken her aback. "I don't know yet. I booked a flight tomorrow night but…"

"Something bothering you?" He frowned, concerned.

"It's nothing. I'm just tired."

He didn't push. "Okay."

"So what did you need?" she changed the subject, practically yawning.

"What are you wearing?" he asked again, trying to lighten up the mood.

Typical Harvey, she thought.

"Nothing," she said before calling it a night. "Goodnight Harvey."

"Goodnight Donna," he said and hung up.

8 hours ago

Two things didn't sit right with Donna. First, about where her heart was. But that had never sat right anyway and Harvey calling her for the millionth time in the wee hours of the night for no particular reason didn't help. Second, about where her heart was again because Mark – who was now divorced – had propositioned her at dinner last night. She knew Mark respected her but the man wanted to kill two birds with one stone by inviting her to their fundraiser. Hence the return flight issue. She wanted sex and sex with Mark would be easy. But she was afraid she'd have to handle more. Because he'd made it clear he didn't just want one night for old times' sake. And him being a client brought in a lot more complications than she'd asked for.

And then Harvey happened. She recalled the night call while sipping on her coffee. She wasn't naked last night but she sure as hell could have been with the way he was breathing on the other end. It felt as if he were breathing down her neck, exhaling the unsaid long after she'd hung up. She'd hesitated before answering. It hadn't happened in a while. But she couldn't help it. She loved his voice – it soothed her and made her feel relaxed – even when she didn't want to hear what he had to say. And yet, she would always enable him, indulge him. And out of what? Devotion? Pity? Because she owed it to him? What more could she gain out of it? So far… nothing.

She had to get ready for the fundraiser and pack up her things. She'd picked a dress that would be fine for the city and yet beautiful enough to blend in amongst the Bostonian socialites. The beige self-tie sleeveless cady dress was a good compromise. The silk fabric of the cocktail dress would hug her curves perfectly. The downside was that if it started to rain, she'd give the clients more than they asked for.

She'd been informed by the hotel concierge service that today would be one of the warmest and most beautiful Spring days of the season. She was to meet Mark and his partner, Kevin Dorn, at the Dane Estate; one of the most beautiful mansions in the vicinity and most appreciated venues. It was a 25 minute Uber ride from her hotel. She didn't think she'd have to change before going back to the airport. Donna stopped in her tracks. She was going home tonight… wasn't she?

Donna showed up to the party around noon. Mark welcomed her as soon as she got out of the car. He took her hands and greeted her with a kiss on the cheek.

"Donna, you look… damn," he said, smiling at her.

"You don't look so bad yourself," she said. "I know it's not your scene but you really wear that tux."

"How the years went by…" he reflected.

She felt like all the women do when a boy or grown man would show them some form of appreciation – she dared though love.

The Uber driver grabbed her suitcase from the trunk.

"Thank you," she said to the driver.

"Allow me." Mark took her luggage. "There's a concierge service. Let's bring that over."

They walked up the stairs of the main entrance and Donna felt like a Regency Period heroine. The rough wood texture, the tower and turret were breathtaking. "I'd seen pictures but this is even more beautiful when you see it."

"According to Kevin, the estate was designed as a freer interpretation of the Old English Style. It has 120 acres of land and –" he stopped as they reached the clerk. "Can you take care of these?"

"Of course, Sir," the old clerk said. "Under what name, Miss?"

"Paulsen, thank you," she said.

"Should I bring her luggage up to your room, Sir?"

"Oh no, I'm not –" she gasped.

"It can stay here for now," he said.

"Certainly, Sir." The clerk nodded.

Donna blushed. "Mark…"

"There could be a storm," he shrugged.

"With this weather?" She arched a brow.

He put his hand on the small of her back and led her to the main hall. "When's your flight again?"

"10:45," she said, trying to revert to a safer conversation. "This place is breathtaking." she repeated, hating herself for it.

"This is the Music Room, it's ancient but not as ancient as the house." The room was full of people already. And the booze was already flowing. "We rented it for the weekend, hence why I got myself a room. Most of the guests are staying for brunch tomorrow. It's a great way to secure donations anyway."

"Or a lady-friend for the night," she said ogling some of the young women accompanying white-haired investors.

"I would hope she stayed." He was the angel crying help here; for hers. She curse-called to heaven for help because all she could think about was sinful. "Kevin's waiting for us upstairs. Did you bring the documents?" he asked.

"Yes, sorry. Where's my head at. The clerk took my purse. Let me go get it," she said walking back to the entrance.

"Okay," he nodded, taking out his phone.

She took this opportunity to breathe, giving him one shy glance over her shoulder and blushed some more at the smile he sent her way. She should be overjoyed and satisfied to get this kind of attention from a man she trusted. He looked hot, his greyer hair gave him the sort of empowerment he lacked back then compared to Harvey. She shook her head. Why did Harvey have to always make an entrance? Donna knew Mark would make her feel more than good. She could let go and be strong.

She reached the clerk and asked him for her bag when she heard security shout outside.

"It's a private event, it happens all the time. I'm sure it's nothing," the clerk assured her.

"Well… who wouldn't want to be here?" She smiled.

He put her purse on the counter and she was about to go and leave when she heard an all too familiar voice.

"Goddamnit! I'm telling you I'm a partner at the law firm representing the people who hired you."

"Harvey –" she choked out, turned on her heels and walked outside.

She stood at the top of the stairs and watched him – blue blazer jacket, top buttons of white shirt down – casual, go at it, his fist was clenched.

One of the security guards placed his hand on his chest. "Sir, I can't let you in yet. I need to check with my boss."

"Listen to me, I don't have time to –" He began but was cut off by Donna.

"Time for what, Harvey?" she practically scolded.

He stood there, speechless, eyes fixated on her like a kid staring at the front window of a candy shop. She knew he was about to swallow his pride.

"Hey," he said softly.

Bingo, she thought.

"He's with me," Donna told the two guards.

"This is a formal event Ma'am, he can't –"

"Spare me the tux BS, this is a $3000 suit," Harvey said straightening his shirt and jacket before moving past the two guards.

He walked up the stairs looking dangerously sexy with those wrinkles around his eyes and his signature Cheshire cat grin – his face truly was his most truthful language. He repeated just as softly as he had, "Hey."

She had to lower her head to speak because she was standing two steps above him; but he definitely was one step ahead. "What are you doing here, Harvey?"

He placed put his right hand in his pocket. The business talk was coming. "Louis asked me to make sure everything runs smoothly."

She narrowed her eyes, "No, he didn't. This isn't about closing them, it's just us signing them. It's air-tight."

"You've been around lawyers for too long, it's never air-tight," Harvey said.

"And you've been around me long enough to know when I know you didn't come all the way over here for a client that isn't even yours," Donna let out.

He pursed his lips. His eyes couldn't stop moving. "You look beautiful… by the way."

"Oh my God…" She put her palm to her forehead and chuckled nervously.

He cursed himself mentally at the last part of his sentence.

"It's just like you to say something to…"

"To what, Donna?" He knew he'd gotten to her. It gave him more confidence to reiterate more calmly. "You really do look…"

He stopped himself at the sight of Mark showing up behind Donna. "Harvey, what a pleasant surprise."

"Mark." Harvey noticed the accountant/sports-manager-now secure his right hand on Donna's waist.

Donna seemed jittery from the touch and licked her lips.

"The pleasure's mine." Harvey offered his hand to shake, determined to break that protective hand in pieces.

Mark shook it on instinct. "You didn't have to come all the way up here. We've got everything covered with Donna."

Harvey tightened his grip on him. "I'm sure you do," he began and glanced up at Donna furtively, "and I know Louis gave Donna power of attorney to sign the contract but I thought we could go over some of the sports celebrities I think you should sign quickly before the new season starts."

"Harvey's a huge sports fan," Donna explained.

"Yes," Mark sighed. "I remember. Baseball, right?"

He let go of Mark's hand and smirked. "Guilty as charged! And as much as I believe our managing partner loves the prospect of changing the rules of baseball to include Ballet moves," he joked. Donna's scornful look told him he had to stop. "I'm the sports expert. And Louis wanted me here too so..."

"Of course." Mark nodded. "I'll make sure you're added to the guest list once we're done signing upstairs." He paused, looking at Donna and then back to Harvey, his voice frail, "You'll stay for the party tonight, won't you?"

"Of course I will, I might even make a donation if I have a good time." Harvey smirked.

"I'm glad," Mark said. The lawyer could tell he wanted to spit in his face. "We should go," he said, placing his hand on her waist to lead her back inside.

"Mark, we'll join you and Kevin in a minute." She stopped him. "I need to go over some details with Harvey," she lied.

Mark didn't say anything this time. He just nodded and left them. She watched him go, her back to Harvey. She sighed and was thinking about her next words carefully when she felt Harvey walk up the steps. There was a lot of space on that porch and yet he chose to leave barely an inch between his front and her back. This was the move of a bastard. She closed her eyes, anger boiling. The almost breathing down her neck phone call had just become all too real. She could sense him towering over her.

"I never thought I'd say this but there are only two reasons why you'd come, either I've been fooling myself for the past year or so thinking you trust me as the COO of this firm—" She tried to remain calm.

"That's not it, Donna. You know I trust you," he quickly clarified.

She turned around to face him. "Or you're here for…" She got stunned by the way he was looking at her. He'd been staring. His eyes were set on her lips, eager to see the last words taking life in her mouth.

"Yes?" he asked, catching her eyes, hopeful she'd get there – wherever that meant, for them.

Feelings got stuck in her throat. Twelve years of them. "Why…" She lost herself in his eyes.

He panicked. "Why the party of course, Donna! It'll be nice to –"

"Stop," she cut him off.

Who was he trying to fool? If she was right, everything had changed. Her plans were never set in stone regarding Mark. But he'd cleared that tight schedule up for her by showing up.

"You're going to enjoy the party and messing with someone else, Harvey. I'm leaving early to catch my flight home," she explained and added, already worn out before walking back inside, "your timing sucks."

He waited until she was out of earshot to pour out his anger. "Fuck."

The Ferry Conference Room was where the two partners had decided to hold the meeting. Harvey arrived upstairs and sent awkward glances Donna's way. She was barely paying attention to him when she introduced him to Kevin Dorn. The two men shook hands, the older man commenting on the wonderful surprise him joining them was. They all sat at the large conference table; Harvey had never felt this uncomfortable in a captain's chair. Kevin was impressed with Harvey from the get go. The lawyer could tell Donna was already pissed off with the sports jokes. He hated himself at that moment. His impromptu visit; it wasn't about undermining her. After twenty minutes of suggestions, Kevin and Mark suggested they started signing the paperwork and move the party downstairs.

"Harvey, I'm glad Louis sent you. Your insight was really worth my time," Kevin said.

"That's why you pay us for." Harvey smiled.

"What about the women's soccer team?" Donne interrupted for the first time since the beginning of the meeting.

"What about them?" Mark asked.

"Donna, we do represent women but soccer doesn't bring in as much money in the US as it does in the rest of the world. I'm sorry Donna but it's not that good of a business opportunity," Kevin began but Donna cut him off.

"Pardon my interruption again but in case you haven't heard, they just won the World Cup and they gathered more attention and better ratings than the men's team which I should remind you has never won anything," Donna explained, determined.

"Donna, it's hard to sell to our investors. The female players aren't paid enough to bring in substantial profit," Mark interrupted.

"The future's female, haven't you heard?" Donna raised an eyebrow.

"We can discuss this later," Kevin maneuvered.

Harvey was about to say something when Donna beat him to it. "No, we're talking about this now. Our firm is going to pull strings to get you to become one of the top sports agencies in the country. You're up-and-comers in the business but you'll definitely not look bold if you chose to sign some of the bigger players. Cause US female soccer just released a positive statement to the world."

"You're making a point," Kevin offered.

Mark agreed. "I'm definitely sold."

She took a chance to look at Harvey who bore the softest awe-inspiring look in his eyes. It was so subtle but it was there.

Donna, still taking charge, sought Harvey's approval. "Now, let's sign those papers."

"Donna…" he paused, glancing her way again. "Gentlemen, it was a pleasure meeting you all," Harvey said.

"Aren't you going to sign?" Mark asked.

Harvey closed middle button of his jacket as he stood up. "She's got everything covered."

She would probably think he'd stepped aside to let her take the spotlight. But it was the last thing on his mind.

Harvey was gone. She'd looked for him until Mark offered her a drink and suggested they move to the Founder's lawn to celebrate with Kevin. He'd introduced her to a few loaded guests. Kevin was gloating about the Women's soccer team and how he had set his mind on representing them. This was her job after all; to hell with the credit. Donna was a hazard to herself though; all because she couldn't stop thinking about why he'd left. She should have been enjoying herself but couldn't shake the feeling that something was truly off with him.

She excused herself from the party and texted him.

Where are you?

As she placed her phone back in her purse, it lit up.

I'm at the airport. You didn't need me after all.

She actively texted him back.

Why did you leave?

His answer broke her.

Like I said, you don't need me.

She closed her eyes and bit her lip.

You know it's not true.

His next reply surprised her.

Then say it.

Something between a laugh and a sob got stuck in her throat. So she joked.

I like neeeeeding you, Harvey.

Even something like ten miles away from her and he could still get to her.

You know he puts his hand around your waist

a little too much for an ex.

I never did that.

She laughed and couldn't help but flirt.

I guess you're an idiot.

She felt a hand pressing against the small of her back. She recognized it instantly. "I guess I am," Harvey whispered.

Donna turned around to meet his gaze. "You sneaky bastard."

"I tested a theory," he said, feather rubbing his hand against her waist. "Now I get why he does it."

"I have great curves. Now what theory?" She wasn't necessarily hiding the effect he had on her but it was getting harder not to melt. The fact that he wasn't flirting over the phone but right in front of her had caught her deeply off-guard since he'd shown up at the estate.

"You were sad when you thought I was gone." He chose not to answer by pushing her buttons more.

She intertwined the fingers that rested on her with hers and took his hand away; and yet didn't release him. "You lied and now I'm even more pissed off."

"I said sad," he quirked an eyebrow.

She bit the inside of her cheek. "No, I wasn't."

"Harvey!" Mark called out, joining them.

She let go of Harvey's hand on the spot. Mark went to stand next to Donna. "We thought you'd left."

"The estate is very pleasing to the eyes, I couldn't go just yet. I found a nice spot by a grove," Harvey explained, excusing his impromptu retreat.

Mark nodded and turned to Donna, "Did you get anything to eat from the buffet?"

"I did." She thanked him.

"Your idea is bringing in new investors already." Mark beamed. "You're amazing, Donna."

"I just hate being mansplained." She held Mark's gaze and then furtively looked Harvey's way. "Or blindsided."

"So this was a spur of the moment sort of thing?" Mark asked.

"No, it wasn't," she explained and eyed Harvey carefully again. "It just gave fuel to my presentation, I suppose."

Kevin joined them and patted Harvey on the shoulder. Donna could tell he didn't like that. She thought he'd say something but he didn't budge. "Harvey! I've been looking for you. There are a few people I'd like you to meet."

"I'm billing you for that," Harvey said.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, friend," Kevin said.

Harvey mouthed 'friend' to Donna who stared at him just as surprised as he was.

"Anyway, I'll see you later?" Harvey asked Donna – almost like a plea.

"For sure." The air felt heavier and the sky was getting clouded. She'd never realized how much she needed lungs to breathe. A storm was indeed looming.

More talking led to even more talking. He could tell Donna was enjoying herself too. The gathering seemed fascinated with her. He stole a few glances her way but he was getting tired of seeing Mark in her vicinity; touching her, making her shiver. But who was he to steal that from her? Scottie had made it clear to him that he was running out of time. 'Later' never came. His own flight was three hours away. And he was this close to falling short.

Harvey had managed to poach a few wealthy people. Louis would be pleased. But he'd also been drinking; hence why he'd lost track of time. He'd headed back inside for the evening buffet the crew had set up. The sky had turned and taken on that dark grey color that meant it would rain soon. By six o'clock, after having been hit on at least twice by an – albeit gorgeous – single fifty year old divorcée, he'd booked a flight home on his phone for tonight. He was thinking less clearly even though he'd eaten three of the smallest sandwiches he'd ever seen. He asked one of the waiters where the bathroom was and locked himself in. He put some water on his face and thought of all the ways this place could have helped him. How he wished he could have planned the perfect romantic getaway, pretexting work like Mark had. Take long walks in that huge park, go horseback riding, have lunch outside and dinner by one of the suite's fireplaces. But the line between what he desired and what he'd always do was in truth a gap of the widest kind.

He stomped the bottom of his closed fist against the classic marble countertop.

She's the one who'd kissed him. She's the one who'd made it all about needing to know. She's the one who'd messed with his protective work-related armor. She broke their bond that day. Normal. There was no going back to normal. He craved that intimacy.

He was hurting and, even though it wouldn't do more than appease him, he placed his hand under the faucet before turning it off.

But as the pressure of a life without her came to a heavy realization and the noose of her moving on kept tightening around his neck, how come he hadn't come to his senses before Scottie decided to shed some light for him? He'd risked getting disbarred for Donna. He'd risked his pride for her. He'd ended relationships because of and for her; he'd risked a life alone for her. And he'd still risk everything for her. And he'd do it a thousand times; every Goddamn day.

He unlocked the bathroom door and closed it behind him. As he was about to walk back to the Founder's hall, he heard her voice coming from one of the adjacent corridors. He tentatively walked up to the chuckles.

"Mark...," she breathed.

Mark was pressed up against her. Her back was to the wall, her palm flat against his chest. Harvey was barely a shadow to her at this moment. He had trouble breathing from the tightness in his throat.

"I can't help it, I want to be with you. Stay. Please?" He kissed her cheek, lingering too long for Harvey's resolve.

He couldn't look away for she was being undone in a way he'd pushed out of his mind after the other time. He hated every second of it.

She sighed, "You're not making it easy for me to say no."

"That's the whole point," Mark said, searching her eyes.

At least he wasn't attacking her cheek and neck again, Harvey thought.

"I'm… I'm not..," she mumbled.

"I'm still in love with you, Donna," Mark blurted out.

"I know," she sighed.

That's it. He was done watching the guy talk his way into her bed. He walked back the corridor and hit the vase that was on a corner console in the process. The loud sound of it breaking alerted everyone – including Donna and he knew it.

"Sir, what happened?" The out-of-breath clerk ran up to him.

"I broke it. Put it on my tab, I drank a few scotches at the bar," Harvey shooed.

"Sir, we don't have tabs. Whatever you drink has already been paid for," the clerk explained.

"Then send me the bill. Harvey Specter Esquire, ZPSL, 600 something East 54th Street… Whatever, you should ask my former secretary for the address, Miss Paulsen. She knows everything."

He rushed outside and found the nearby grove he'd enjoyed so much earlier; where he'd fantasized the once forbidden and now – not even remotely possible – intimacy. It started to rain when he reached the first set of trees. He found shelter under one of them and took his phone out. As he opened the Uber app he heard light steps coming his way.

"Former secretary?" He heard Donna's aggravated voice.

"I'm leaving, don't worry." He chose not to give her the satisfaction of looking at her.

"Shit," she cried out. He turned around and saw that one of her feet was anchored in mud. She was having a hard time taking her heel off.

"Here, let me –" he offered, walking up to her.

"No," she stopped him with a sign of her hand. "I got this."

He shrugged and looked at his phone again.

As soon as she was done, she cringed at her uneven gait and the feeling of mud under her bare foot but took her other heel off for balance.

He checked her out. She was already drenched; she was unfolding to him like a piece of writing – like the kind of romantic prose he hated reading in High School. Prose now in the form of a dress that barely left anything to the imagination he wanted nothing but to tear off. Baseball thoughts weren't coming to him. At least they could have appeased him.

She snatched his phone away. "I guess you don't need that phone since you seem to like what you see."

"Give me my phone back," he grumbled.

"How did you even see us?" she asked, confused.

"That's your question?"

"Where you like spying on us?" she asked.

"Right, Donna. You got me, I spy on you." He walked menacingly close to her, looking pissed. "In fact," he pretended to look shocked, "I've been doing it since you were sitting at your cubicle."

She raised her arms in front of her and clenched her fists. "You're insufferable, you know that?"

"Oh, I'm insufferable? You're the one accusing me of spying on you when you were the one practically doing it there for everyone to see."

"He just came on to me, Harvey," she sighed, staring at his drenched features.

"You do whatever you want Donna, you always have anyway!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"He's been fooling around with you for two days, Donna. Don't downplay it to spare whatever feelings you think I have." He ran a hand through his wet hair and sniffed up and eventually shook his head in defeat. "You want him."

She'd had enough and shouted her way through her heart. "Of course I want him, Harvey. Cause unlike you, he wants me."

"He wants you all right," he sniggered before gesturing at her dress. "And now he's going to want you even more."

She slapped him in the face. She never had.

He knew he'd deserved it. Even the remnants of alcohol didn't excuse the bitter words they'd exchanged, culminating in a lie. He was never talking about Mark.

She had tears in her eyes and fought to keep them locked in.

He was experiencing the moment at the lowest possible speed. The rain was free-flowing between her freckles. The beige of her dress had become just as grey as the sky above them. He couldn't look away; just as he couldn't let her go. He wanted to be see-through like a silk dress under the rain. His heart was trying to beat out of his eyes, trying to settle into her own gaze, right there for the taking; always and for her. She looked away, ready to leave him there when he grabbed her arm and physically called her face back to his. She had no time to escape his descent for he'd reeled her in and his lips found hers quicker than a prey getting caught in a trap. She felt his mouth engulf her, body and soul; not just her own means of reciprocity. He circled her upper back and brought her flush against him.

This was Harvey looking at her – taking her that way.

Former secretary, former lover, he'd just made her lose sight of who she was. Possessing her like he always had, she couldn't help but want more of it. The thoughts forming inside her head disappeared of their own accord as the way he was making her feel took over. She got up on her tip-toes, cupped his face, practically raked her nails against his perfectly shaved skin and rebelled against his invasive tongue; showing the kind of dominance she'd been fighting for against everybody else save for him. Not even the razor-sharp rain hitting them could have stopped this climactic complication. It had troubled her for a while. And he was getting her to remember why. The kiss turned slower: soft and sensual. The teasing switch between suction and tongue soothed her carnal appetite.

Everything they were and the elements unleashing around them got to their head. They were oblivious to the fact that it would be the need for air that would break them apart.

He lowered his hands to the small of her back and saw she was shivering, putting her arms protectively around her frame.

"Here, take my jacket." He took it off quickly and put it around her.

She felt awkward. She lowered her head and, clutching the fabric protectively around her, said. "Thanks."

He tried to place his hand on her cheek but she took a step back. It was better than to shove his arm away. He tilted his head back in disbelief.

"You're already thinking this was a mistake," Harvey spoke for her.

"Among other things." She focused on the muddy ground beneath her. "I'm sorry, Harvey."

"Sorry about what?" he asked softly.

"You…" She licked her lips and arched her head upward to meet his eyes. "You flirt with me, I flirt back, you shout my name and I answer…"

He smiled at her, trying to get closer. But she took another step back. "You respect me and I respect you, you love me, I love you, but not like this. We put it out of minds ages ago."

"You kissed me too, you know that right? And I'm not talking about just now. I'm talking about that night in your office," he challenged.

"You've ripped my heart to shreds, Harvey!" she cried out. "Do you think it was easy for me to see that we had something there but that you didn't want it? So I lied… countless times."

"You should have told me how you felt!" he shouted.

"How could I? You didn't want to hear it."

"You're a hypocrite."

"Then I guess we're screwed because there was nothing hypocritical about that kiss, except for the man behind it."

He watched her leave again – as if for good this time. A couple of yards in, he realized she was struggling to walk back to the estate. He shook his head and forgot his lack of a heartbeat for a second and caught up to her.

"Donna," he said, grasping her hand.

"This has to end… you stopping me like this all the time!" Donna thought she'd made it clear she needed some alone time.

He sighed. "Yeah, I know I'm the last person you want to see. Just let me help you until we reach the gravel walkway and you can put those shoes back on."

"Okay," she agreed. "But you're not carrying me."

"We're not too far anyway." He nodded. "Piggyback?" He offered her a small smile.

"Fine," she chuckled.

He turned around, squatted down in front of her and said: "Hop on."

For a moment, the anger subsided. She didn't believe in coincidences such as those but the fact that it'd stopped raining left her with a lighter look. She caught herself staring at his drenched back. She rolled her eyes at the situation for the joke was on her through and through; having to ride on his back and shoulders. Having him pull her back in when all she wanted was to stay away.

"Don't turn around," she commanded.

She sighed and caught the hem of her sticky dress.

He heard her pant and turned his face slightly to the side. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Hiking up my ruined dress," she let out.

She placed her legs on each side of his crouched self and circled her arms around his neck. He grabbed her knee pits and lifted himself up quickly. Something between a gasp and squeal came out of her mouth.

"I'm not some damsel in distress," she explained.

"No… definitely not, you're too heavy for that," he panted exaggeratedly.

She wanted to keep up with his banter to forget about the tension in her muscles. "Has the oh-so-gentleman esquire done this often?"

"No, but… damn, my neck… could you … hold on to something else… won't drop you, promise." He struggled to let the words out.

"Oh God, I'm sorry!" She loosened her grip immediately and slowly – feeling her way along – trailed her hands down to his chest. Circling his waist like this, the back and forth movement of his back against her and the sheer closeness sent her to that place. The one that would amp up her sexual desire for him; and his well-defined chest area wasn't helping. "Why couldn't you bring a tie?"

"So you could strangle me with it?" he joked, air finally finding its way back to him.

"Not there yet," she warned him. "But you knew this was a formal event."

"I left in a hurry this morning." He didn't leave her anytime to ask more. "Don't you like my disheveled look?"

"You don't look disheveled… well, maybe now you do."

He felt her hands roam slightly across his chest and took it upon himself to hold on a bit longer: he couldn't put her down just yet. She'd managed to relax to the rhythm of his gait and his breathing; the gravel walkway being the only sound grounding her to reality. It was when they reached the stairs leading back inside the estate that she realized it was hard to let go.

He dropped her down.

"Thanks for the ride," she smiled up at him.

"Anytime," he smiled back.

"Donna!' They both turned around as they saw Mark marching down the stairs.

"Mark!" Harvey used his most contrived smile before lowering his voice. "Thanks for interrupting us again."

Mark grabbed Donna's hand as if she were the most precious object in the world. Harvey wanted to vomit.

"I saw the broken vase and then you were gone! I was worried," he explained, leading her up the stairs.

"You didn't look hard enough," Harvey mumbled under his breath.

If Donna had been able to turn around, she'd have shot him a look.

"I need to change, Mark," she said instead.

"You can do that in my room," he suggested, taking her back inside.

She chose her words carefully, needing room to breathe. "I'll join you in a minute."

Mark was beaming and said. "Oh, okay. I'll have the clerk bring your stuff upstairs." He turned to Harvey who'd been trailing behind them at a slower pace, keeping his distance, "Don't you want your jacket back?"

"She can keep it," Harvey said.

"All right. Well, Goodnight, Harvey." Mark shook his hand before heading towards the concierge service. "Thanks for bringing her back safely."

"Goodnight Mark."

They were left alone again.

"Doesn't he even care about why you rushed out of the place?" Harvey was dumbfounded.

"He knows," she stated.

"Yeah, I get it. Men are too proud," he swallowed.

"I have to go," she sighed.

"Don't do this… don't pretend you're hesitating," he countered.

"I'm not, I'm about to catch a cold," she clarified.

"I need to talk to you, please.".

She looked composed, stoic even. "Not tonight."

"Right…" The word left a bitter taste in his mouth. "Guess, I'm going home alone… Have fun. " She'd been this close to slapping him again. But he looked like a boy who'd made a mistake.

"I'll see you in New York, Harvey." No goodnight ever boded well in his head. But this felt like goodbye.

"Don't bother." And he walked out.

She didn't like him like this: acting childish, jealous, monopolizing her truth and having the last word.

2.5 hours ago

Donna knocked on Mark's door. He opened it with a bath towel on his arm.

"Madame." He bowed down.

He looked like a waiter and it made her laugh. She was the danger crying help and she hated herself for it.

"Monsieur," she said, coming inside.

"The shower's this way. And your stuff's in the room."

"Where's my purse? When we were… I remember dropping it when I saw Har–," she stopped herself from fear of revealing too much.

"It's in there too." He left out the unsaid and handed her the towel. She grabbed it and nodded. She moved to the bathroom and closed it behind her. When she came out twenty minutes later, hair blow-dried. Mark was waiting for her with two glasses of champagne.

"I thought we'd celebrate your 'just-got-out-of-the-shower' look since I haven't seen it in so long." He smiled.

"I am wearing just a towel after all." She lifted her hands in the air.

He walked up to her and handed her the glass. Drinking, losing focus for a moment seemed the most selfish way to go. This would help her stop thinking about Harvey which was what she'd been torturing herself with for the better part of the day. She'd slept with both but this man, the one standing right in front of her, wasn't a stranger to her. He was charming, clear-headed and quite capable of communicating on his feelings. The small talk was easy.

Trespassing slowly, he put his hand through the small opening of her towel and set his palm on her naked waist.

He started caressing her, fondling places as she finished gulping down her drink. Out-of-sync, easily accepting him; she had none of the hard work to do. For she didn't feel anything when he touched her. No storm brooding inside of her. She became estranged from Mark the day she met him. She was the hazard to their relationship health. Her relationships failed for a reason. They could never compete.

"Harvey," she let out.

Mark dropped his hand from under her towel on the spot and stopped kissing her neck.

"I'm sorry, Mark," she apologized, placing her hand on his chest.

"I really thought you'd get over him this time," he said, placing a lock of hair behind her ear.

"I don't think I'm ever getting over him," she let out.

He closed his eyes and scratched his head. "You could… keep the room if you wanted. I can have another one."

"I'm not staying," she said.

"Okay." He nodded.

She kissed his cheek and when she saw him teared up, she realized she was doing a whole lot more than calling their hot night off, she was breaking this man's heart again. "Mark…"

"You won't mind if I don't see you out," he choked up.

"I understand," she said.

He picked up his key card and opened the door. He stopped one last time before walking out. "I'm really gonna miss you…"

The lump in her throat got heavier.

"…in that towel," he joked. "Yeah, he's one lucky bastard. Goodbye, Donna."

She burst out laughing, cherishing this moment and the memory of them.

1 hour ago

Harvey was sitting in the airport lobby, staring at nothing in particular. The storm was back over Boston and his flight had just been canceled. All passengers had been called to the company check in desk. He didn't want another flight and wait only God knows how many hours until a new one. He didn't want compensation. He wanted one thing and it had slipped through his fingers and into the arms of one lucky bastard. His legs just wouldn't move. Anger, indecisiveness and a fucking headache forcing him to support his head on his knees.

Donna Roberta Paulsen just wanted to get as far away from him as possible. And repeatedly at that throughout the day. He couldn't wait to go back to New York and grant her just that. Only for good this time.

Around 10:20pm, twenty-five minutes before the once scheduled take off, Harvey saw a pair of legs he knew all too well. Donna – wearing jeans and leather boots – was walking up to him, the sound of her suitcase breaking the contemplative silence he'd been trying to bury himself into for the past two hours or so.

He sat up straight and tilted his head back. "What are you doing here?"

"Trying to catch my flight back to New York," she paused," but apparently, it's been canceled."

"Yeah… I know," he let out, frustration evident in his tone.

"You booked my flight too?" She looked surprised.

"I booked my flight."

"Delta, 10:45?"

"Yes, Donna," he sighed. "We booked the same flight. And now we're stuck here."

"I didn't realize you didn't have a suitcase," Donna remarked.

"I usually pack up light when it's a business trip," he retorted.

"Right… Did you ask what happened?" She pressed him for information.

"I've been busy," he lied.

She eyed him carefully. "Doing what? Moping over a canceled flight?"

Donna hated treading on such shaky grounds. But she still didn't know how to approach the situation between them.

"And to think you have a BA in theater," he said, mockingly.

"Tragedies are more my thing," she shrugged.

"Do you have my jacket by the way?" he asked, rubbing his upper arms, "It's getting cold in here."

"Yes." She squatted down and unzipped her suitcase. She took out the blue fabric and handed it to him. "Here."

He stood up and thanked her as he put it on; it looked better than it did some three hours ago. "Did you iron it?" he asked, bewildered.

"No," she chuckled, tugging affectionately at the front. "I just used a blow-dryer on it."

Although he'd ended their last conversation on what felt like a definite break, the not-so-trivial physical contact allowed Harvey to hope for a moment. But many a thing could have happened with her in that nuptial suite whilst he felt cooped up in here, alone, surrounded by strangers – knowing she wasn't.

Harvey took the matter into his own hands, his legs finally functioning again. "Let's go to the check-in desk."

They didn't have to wait too long for some assistance.

"So, I hear the flight got canceled," Harvey offered the woman a sheepish smile.

"That was almost two hours ago, Sir." He could have sworn the woman had yawned at him.

He turned to Donna. "Don't you have an app on your phone telling you these things?"

"Don't you?"

He took offense. "I was already here!"

"Well, I was running late… didn't want to miss my flight, so I rushed." She shrugged.

Running late, he thought. No, the other thought it was leading him to didn't please him at all.

"Lady," the check-in clerk said to Donna before setting her eyes on Harvey again, "Sir, give me your boarding passes."

They did and watched her type for what felt like minutes on her computer.

"So, did the flight get canceled because of the storm?" Donna asked, tapping her fingers on the counter.

"Sure, Miss…" the lady checked Donna's boarding pass, "Paulsen. We get tropical storms in Boston throughout the year."

"Are you mocking me?" Donna glared at the woman, pointing her index finger at herself. She then turned to Harvey, "She's mocking me, isn't she?" Donna knew this was obvious and so did Harvey. She still couldn't believe the woman.

"Come on, Miss-es!" Harvey tip-toed around his next words. "We've had a long day…"

"So, did I… and 200 passengers to take care of!"

"We were just making small talk," Donna clarified.

"We're short on staff and pilots because of the recent strike. But your pilot called in sick two hours ago," she finished typing, "that's what happened. Oh and it so happens the number of passengers practically tripled because of the different Spring festivals."

"So what should we do? Wait here till we get another flight?" Harvey asked.

"There aren't many other flights. No flights to New York until 8:30am tomorrow. It just so happens I have three seats left. Do you want to be seated next to each other or not?"

"No," Harvey let out while Donna used the affirmative.

"Oh come on, Harvey," Donna began, "First you kissed me, then you gave me a piggyback ride. Can't you at least sit next to me so I don't have to end up with some weird perv?"

Harvey looked flabbergasted, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously.

"Well...Which one is it?" The wide-eyed clerk looked between the two cranky people in front of her.

"Fine, get us the seats next to each other." Harvey tried to appear in control.

"Okay, two seats," the clerk continued typing everything up. "Now, usually our customers not only show up to our desks when they're told their flight was canceled but they prefer to stay near the airport to avoid morning traffic. The only accommodations we can provide however for you tonight because of all the aforementioned reasons…"

"Strike, festivals, traffic…" Donna enumerated again as the clerk handed them their new boarding passes.

"Incompetence," Harvey fake-coughed.

The clerk laughed. "Want to call my supervisor?"

"Is he on strike too?" Donna challenged.

"Donna," Harvey warned her and mumbled under his breath, "she looks like Big Bertha." That was code for she scared the crap out of him.

"No, but he'll make sure you'll sleep in the airport lobby."

"Fine, where's the hotel?" Donna asked.

"You're in luck! It's only 3 miles away." Big Bertha 2.0 looked too pleased.

Donna gritted her teeth. "The Hilton?"

"Not the Hilton," Harvey said.

"Sorry Miss Paulsen, all the fancy ones are booked," the clerk said.

Harvey sighed, took out his phone and ordered an Uber.

They exited the airport with Harvey leading the way. The Uber ride didn't last too long even though they'd barely exchanged any words. When they reached the 15-story high building, Donna took it in. "It doesn't look so bad."

"Wait till you see the inside of your room," Harvey said, getting out of the car.

"At least I won't have to deal with your 5-stars needs and mood swings," she scoffed, thanking the driver for handing her the suitcase.

"You took the words right out of my mouth." He walked in first and she followed suit.

They reached the reception and saw a skinny man sleeping at his desk.

Harvey coughed to try and wake him up. But nothing happened. Harvey coughed louder which made Donna roll her eyes. She nudged the man awake.

"Hm… Sorry, welcome to Boston Hostel,"

"Hi, our flight got canceled and we have a reservation for two rooms," Harvey said.

The man checked his computer before saying, "You mean one room."

"No, he really means two separate rooms," Donna argued.

The hotel receptionist put some gum in his mouth. "See the thing is…" he chewed loudly, "this was our last room, so the air company booked you this room."

Harvey blinked a few times. "Wow. You really do have a peculiar way of stating the obvious."

Donna breathed out as loudly as she could. "You've got to be kidding me."

This night was turning into something out of this world. Goodbye the Old England dream with butlers and waiters. Goodbye to romance and butterflies. The heartaches she could go without though.

"You can always separate the two beds, only we don't have additional bedding," the man offered, chewing some more.

"Strike, festivals, traffic…" Harvey repeated to himself. "Donna?"

"Hm?" She answered absentmindedly.

"Just sign whatever it is they want us to sign and grab that keycard before I do something illegal," he said.

"Are you sure?"

"Donna," he groaned.

"Okay, fine, we'll take it."

"It's room 208, 2nd floor, to your right," the man indicated.

"Greaaat," Donna let the word drag out. "I'm gonna sleep at my neighbor's place."

The receptionist handed the keycard to Donna but Harvey beat her to the punch by snatching them. He took her suitcase and called the elevator. Donna walked up to him and saw that he was breathing erratically.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

He swallowed at her words. "I'm fine. Just didn't think tonight would end up being so carnivalesque."

"Sir?" the receptionist called after them.

"What now?" Harvey shook his head.

"I forgot to mention the elevator stopped working! I called the tech two hours ago but they haven't shown up yet."

"You think?" Harvey shouted and then pestered, "Captain obvious..."

Donna checked her surroundings, trying to find the stairs. She didn't waste any time and grabbed Harvey's hand.

"What the –" he was less concerned about where she wanted to take him and more concerned with the feeling of their fingers intertwining.

"Don't forget my suitcase."

Of course he had so he let go of her hand. "I'll be right there."

About a minute later, Harvey reached the second floor and saw Donna waiting for him at the far end of the corridor.

"Carnivalesque, I'm telling you," Harvey said loud enough for her to hear.

"Still panting, I see." It was just like her to make another joke.

"Haha, very funny," he pouted, accelerating his strut.

"At least tonight's turning out to be full of surprises."

"What do you mean?" he asked, watching her snatch the keycard from his hand.

"Well for once, I didn't know you were this articulate," she smirked, opening the room that ended in 8.

"And second?" He raised his eyebrows.

"I haven't figured that part out yet," she admitted, looking away.

They entered the room and she turned on the lights. The room was small with green bedding and grey walls. Harvey put Donna's suitcase at the side of the bed. He tested the mattress with his knee, the feeble and yet permeating creaking sound made him laugh. He pulled the covers away. "No holes in the sheets and at least there's a window."

Donna noticed this was his first honest response to anything in a while. It was a pleasing sound to say the least.

She checked the bathroom. It was just as small. But it looked clean enough. "There's no lock."

"We could ask our neighbors at 206 to switch rooms with us, might feel homier," he couldn't help but joke.

"They'd probably say no."

"I wouldn't mind getting into a fight right now; I passed up on a few opportunities today." He shrugged.

"Don't tempt me," she warned, placing her suitcase on the bed.

She was smiling even though they'd gotten themselves locked up in a room together for the next seven hours. He had more to say about the Mark issue than he'd let on. But then again, he didn't want to sleep on the ground or the single chair.

She knew he was thinking about their late afternoon encounter considering the way he'd been staring at her for the past thirty seconds, burning her back with his stare. She turned around and saw just how dark his eyes were in the dim light. The staring contest was changing everything. Everything that hung in the balance between them had resurfaced faster than fist connecting with skin. She refrained from making a joke about anger management because this wasn't about their chaotic night. This was about them. Their unsaid; and for the first time it hit them both that they were closer to two strangers sharing a bedroom than anything else.

"I'm going to take a shower," Harvey said, breaking the silence.

Hearing the shower running granted her some very needed peace and quiet. She ruffled through her suitcase and found her nightgown; being in such a hurry, she hadn't organized it properly. She quickly opted for wearing her panties with a T-shirt instead. She changed and got into bed, choosing her favorite side: the left one.

"Goddamnit!" She heard Harvey shout from the bathroom.

"What?" She shouted back.

She couldn't really hear him right from her side. She'd distinctly heard 'leg' and 'broken'.

"Oh my God, is your leg broken?" She rushed out of bed and said, "I'm coming in," before opening the door.

"The showerhead's broken," he let out as she opened the door. He was in full view, wet hair, droplets on his face, shoulders, chest and he had one foot out the sliding doors by the time he covered himself with both hands.

"Oh sorry." she averted her eyes immediately.

"Good God Donna!" He let out.

"I thought you said your leg was broken," she said.

"It's not! Mind giving me some privacy?" he asked.

She closed the door but heard him vent again, "Hm, Donna?"

"What now? I'm not looking through the peephole; I'm not that desperate! Besides there was… nothing new to see," she exclaimed.

"Do you have a towel?" he asked once she was done.

She began feeling ridiculous. "No. Why?"

"There aren't any…" he said, frailly.

Harvey got out of the bathroom several minutes later in his boxer briefs. He could tell she was on the verge of laughing again. She looked kind of cute hanging on to those sheets though, he thought.

He tilted his head to the side. "What now?"

"I feel like this is the worst romance novel ever," she chuckled.

He sat on the chair beside the TV space. "Is this a minibar kind of story or should I go straight to sleep?" he quipped.

"There's nothing in the minibar."

"You must be joking,"

She shook her head no. "Am I… really? At this point?"

"Fair enough," he said, moving to join her in bed.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm getting into bed," he pointed out, frowning at her.

"Yeah, sure." She tried her best to keep her feelings at bay.

"Well, I can't wait to hear your story about the romance novel though," he said getting under the covers.

"Check the nightstand," she said.

He turned on his side and opened the drawer. "I see a bible and… a pack of condoms? Did you put that in here?"

"I'm not touching on that."

They both laughed together; dark orbs melting into each other.

"Harvey, I have to tell you something." She couldn't keep them away long enough.

"We should sleep first," he countered.

"Fine." She sighed, switched the lights off and turned on her side of the bed.

Donna felt him twist and turn a couple of times. Sleep never came and as she felt him move closer to her, breathing against her hair, she could tell he wasn't either. She slowly switched position to face him again. He grazed his fingers against the back of her hand and asked: "Did you sleep with him?"

"No."

"But you wanted to."

"I told you before. Yes."

"Then why did you leave him?"

"You know why," she said.

"Don't tell me I know why, Donna. I need to hear you say it," he pressed, moving his hand to the hem of her shirt.

"Why are you touching me like this?" She shivered but didn't put his hand away.

"You know I can't stop," he said moving his hand to the small of her back to anchor himself to her.

"I know… and I don't want you to stop," she searched his mouth with her lips and added, "There's your answer," before kissing him slowly. He opened his mouth wider and deepened the kiss until she pulled away.

"Your turn. Why did you come here?" She roamed her hand on his back, finding her way back to every bone, muscle and moles it harbored.

"So we're back to playing twenty questions." She could tell he was smiling as he helped her lift her shirt up.

"Hopefully we'll run out soon enough." She chuckled. "So," she repeated, "Why?"

"Because I love you," he said and eventually quipped, "and there's no one else I'd rather share this awful bed with."

"You had no choice!" she blurted out.

"I had every choice, Donna," he clarified. "You're just the only one I regret taking so long to make."

"It's my fault too," she admitted. "I should have been the one telling you how."

"How... what?"

"How I love–" she was stopped by his lips crashing on hers. He laughed into her mouth as she struggled to place that 'you'. She moaned when she felt him kneading her breasts. Barely catching his breath between kisses, he lowered his hand to her panties, fingers already focused on her pleasure points. He moaned into her mouth as she started gasping for air.

She trailed her hand down his neck, crossed his shoulder blades, moved along his brutally real chest only to settle under his waistband. "Now, are we done talking?"

"We're just getting started," he said, moving on top of her.

"Harvey?" she asked in the wee hours of the morning.

"Hm?" he answered groggily.

"Next time you and I spend the night together, it better be at a place with clean sheets."

"Someplace like… the estate?"

"Please."

"You got it."

She kissed his shoulder. "Thanks."

"But you're the one talking to that check-in-desk Big Bertha look alike lady tomorrow," he mumbled in his pillow.

- The end.

SIB

SIB

Just so you gals know? I loved writing every minute of this. I hope you did too, hit that review button if you did. ;)

Thx to my eternal confident and beta extraordinaire, Blue. She worked her entire night on this. And... she said it was perfect and that it was one of her favorite fics ever. I couldn't believe it and I'm probably writing this from my grave. 3
Thx to Laura for pushing me to do this, supporting me all the way. RT-ing that prompt everywhere. Laura is not at all who you think... she's passionate... quite articulate at times and despite what most people believe, I consider her lovable. 3

This fic, for its P&P reference, but not only, is dedicated to Caroline Prince too.

Finally, I'd like to thank all of you for liking the teasers and supporting the writing process behind this fic. I guess it worked a lot, see I wrote it in like two days and a half? That's because of you twitter pals. So again, thank you. ;)

Yours,

B.