I Only Need What I Need

Category: Drama/Angsty pre-canon Darvey.

Summary: Harvey discovers where his loyalties lie when Donna's new boyfriend turns out to be one of Paula's former patients.

AN: I haven't written a story with Paula before and I wanted to give it ago (I mean she must have realized Harvey had feelings for Donna, right? XD). It's only a two-parter, just scratching the itch :P

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Eric goddamn Buyers.

The first time Harvey heard the name he'd instantly despised it. When it had later leeched from his mouth, sloppy and stuck on his lips he'd detested even more but nothing had compared to the anguish he'd felt when he'd inevitably come face to face with the business executive from Porter-Schmitt. He's never been 'that way' inclined towards men but appeal had jutted out from beneath the man's thick jet-black hair, paralleled with piercing blue eyes and a defined chiseled jaw. The only thing more striking was the redhead on his arm and Harvey had suddenly understood Donna's interest in the man five years her junior, their linked elbows and exiting steps having made his stomach heave with nausea.

It shouldn't bother him.

Lord knows since the pair started dating his own relationship has been a hell of a lot easier. After Donna's spontaneous kiss to 'know for sure' things had taken a rocky descent, his girlfriend on the verge of issuing an ultimatum- until fate had intervened.

Out of nowhere the well-off entrepreneur had moved in to sweep Donna of her feet and he'd been fine with it. It meant he no longer had anything to prove, talks of commitment and a family with Paula coming to a grinding standstill and giving him space to breath. It became a time to reflect, watch as the weeks had started rolling by and Prince fucking Eric stepped up his game; long lunches at Per Se, exclusive Gala's, a trip away to Paris... then suddenly, somewhere amidst his soul searching the walls had started to close in again.

His relationship with Paula has stayed the same stable and steady trajectory, safe. It's not a race but if it was he'd be coming in last, dredging slowly behind- and he isn't a man who like to lose. That's why his over attentiveness had started catching where it shouldn't, picking apart his competition. Donna is her own person, fiercely independent and not a woman who can be bought. Sure he's indulged her over the years, never questioning her access to his accounts and springing surprise ventures to Hermes but her personality is elegant and simplistic by nature. The gifts that kept turning up for her seemed tacky and tasteless, like the executive at Porter-Schmitt was trying too hard to stake a claim.

Donna Paulsen isn't anyone's property and when he'd began seeing them outside of work together, events that had fast become his own personal hell, the unease had grown with a vengeance. He'd spend most of his time introducing Paula to clients, smiling where appropriate and a swallowing a bitter taste when people congratulated him for 'finally settling down'. Paula would glow at the compliments while he would try to pretend he wasn't secretly watching Donna and Mr. Smug-bastard Charming from the sidelines, the man's clinginess always reeking of desperation. The Executive would parade her around in lavish dresses that he would hate himself for admiring because Donna isn't the sort to be lead. He's sure there have even been times he could read the irritation sparking her gaze or maybe that was just wishful thinking on his part.

Maybe she is genuinely happy and he's been wrong about her the past 13 years.

The idea has since dug itself in with ferocity, gnawing quietly during the late evenings he'd deliberately prolonged at his office. Nights like tonight where one drink has turned into several in an attempt to distract himself. It hasn't worked -rarely does- and he finally concedes, packing up his things and calling Ray.

The two keys on his chain weigh like an anvil as he drops them inside his pocket, wondering how in the hell he got here. Things with Paula had been good in the beginning, great even. He'd faced his issues about opening up during their therapy sessions so in theory the hard part should be over and to some degree it is. They don't live in each others pockets but they spend several days a week together, they enjoy each other's company and they talk. It's what an adult relationship is supposed to look like or at least that's what he assumes having not every really engaged in one before. But it's simple, safe- that word again pushing away any regrets.

It's the reason why he tries not to feel despondent when Ray arrives and he instructs the man toward Paula's townhouse.

They don't stay at his condo anymore. She's never openly voiced her discomfort but he can sense the bachelor pad makes her feel self-conscious. The sex is never quite as good when they're there so he makes the trip across the city knowing it will be easier for the two of them to get off.

Make love, he internally corrects- because anything else sounds crass next to the proper image he has of her built inside his mind; sensible, intellectual and giving.

An invasive flash of read sprawled over his desk fires from nowhere, long legs wrapped around his hips; untamed, wild and taking. It's vivid enough that he can taste Donna on his tongue, feel the claw of her talon like nails as they drive him deeper and a soft groan betrays his sudden need, heat searing down his neck as Ray's eyes flick to his in the review mirror.

"Everything alright Mr. Specter?"

He shifts uncomfortably, adjusting the knot at his throat. "Fine." Except it's not fucking fine and guilt rears up in place of the torrid fantasy, his wrist turning to display the time. "Actually, could you take the next right... I want to make a quick stop."

He doesn't feel any better once the extravagant roses are in his hand. Thorns bite through the plastic digging into his clenched palm and he silently takes the punishment as he slides back into the car. During their therapy sessions Paula had always encouraged role playing calling it a 'useful tool' but he doubts his girlfriend would say the same thing now; not if she knew the memory of pale, freckled skin peaking beneath strawberries and whipped cream is what drives him over the edge after a stressful day.

Just a fantasy.

That's what he tells himself, how he justifies it as they pull up- dim lights that bleed through dark curtains lifting him out of the passenger side. It's a family neighborhood and Paula's a private person, neither of them interested in putting on a show. This is reality and takes the neatly groomed path up to her door, unlocking it with a frown when he hears her raised voice echoing down the hall.

She sounds angry but controlled and in fairness he can't see her ever tearing loose in an argument but he still slows his approach and he feels awkward, trying not to eavesdrop on the call as he silhouettes the arch into her living-room. A second later her clipped tone ends the conversation and his brow dents at her hard, unsteady breathing. "Everything okay?" He asks, concern bubbling up in his throat but his feet stay rooted in place unsure of what to do next.

"I...no-" she swallows with difficulty, eyes falling to the flowers in his hand and swimming with guilt as they lift back up.

He stiffens at the unfamiliar look because it's one he's never seen her wear before. She's usually calm and rational with her decisions, guided by reason. She's never in the wrong but this is different and something uneasy turns in his stomach.

"I don't quite know how to say this..." she starts, the tactic to get her words out fast but she falters. She isn't a malicious person. She would never deliberately harm anyone but she'd potentially made an error in judgement and the phone in her hand goes limp as she folds it protectively across her chest. "Eric Buyers used to be a patient of mine."

Harvey flinches, the name he hates yielding even more despise as he tries to piece together what she's talking about. He was there the first time they'd met, hell he'd watched them act like they were being introduced and he can already feel the cogs of betrayal start to churn. "I don't understand."

She wouldn't expect him to, not yet at least because however pure her intentions had been in the beginning- she'd lied to him. She'd set out to find a way that could help both he and Donna move on, intentionally going behind his back to avoid the blind-spot he has when it comes to the redhead. She'd thought she was doing right by all four of them but hadn't anticipated the relationship would take off so quickly or that it might become potentially triggering for her former client. "I gave him Donna's number thinking the two of them might hit it off." She admits, watching his expression twist with more confusion and wishing she had some way to justify her actions.

"Her number, how-" he stops at the twitch of the device between her fingers, his own phone weighing down his pocket like it's burning a hole through the thin material. "You went through my contacts?"

He's pissed and she nods not proud of herself but having at least ceased any involvement after that. She'd simply wanted to give Eric a nudge in the right direction knowing how charming and resourceful he could be with the right motivation. "I should have asked you first but I genuinely thought it would benefit everybody."

It's spoken like she's somehow absolved of any wrong-doing and anger thrums through his tight grip around the bouquet but it flickers under a pulse of his earlier concern. "That was him on the phone?"

"Yes." She wants to be as open and concise as possible, discuss the situation rationally but she can already preempt the next question out of his mouth and is careful about how she answers, trying to assimilate her own emotions with the proper ethical conduct. "You know I cant talk about what we discussed."

"Bullshit." He counters, a thousand different scenarios spinning through his mind but he's still envisioning something worse than all of them. The heated call aside, she wouldn't have confessed to lying to him for months unless there was some kind of problem and he isn't buying any back-peddling. "You said he was a patient."

Technically he's right but the words she'd exchanged with Eric tonight had been in direct relation to his past sessions meaning she's still bound by doctor/patient confidentiality. As much as she wants to reveal everything to move them passed this she can't, her hands tied by protocol. "Harvey, please-"

"Who called who?" He snaps, angrily forging around her goddamn moral code- something she hadn't seemed to give a shit about when she was orchestrating this whole thing.

"I called him." She confesses, steeling herself against his outburst. His reaction to lash out in therapy had been a common one and she knows why he's regressing now. Because despite every attempt she's made to progress his dependency, his first instinct is still wrapped around Donna. It's like he's wired to protect the woman and it's beyond frustrating but her own personal feelings aside, it would have been careless to dismiss the comments he's been making about Eric whether they're valid or not. "You've mention some things that I wanted to discuss with him..." she treads carefully, purposely vague with specifics, "I needed to find out if there was any truth to them or if-"

"If what?" He challenges her pause, daring her to say it.

"If you were just jealous." She throws at back at him trying to rein in her own envy but not able to deny it's there. She knows he would never cheat, not physically, but wanting to be with someone else is nearly just as bad and she can feel her insecurity rapidly gaining a foothold. "You can't honestly stand there and tell me that's not been a part of this."

Right now he can- not giving a shit about the accusation or whether it's true. Jealous or not she felt the need to call Eric anyway, validating every one of his instincts about the prick and he throws down the flowers in his palm not caring as the petals scatter in a mess over her couch. "Paula, you have a duty of care..." he reminds her calmly, his voice dangerously low in warning, "if you think there's any chance Donna could be in trouble, I need to know."

Her eyes lock with his almost insulted by the deflection as she parts with a shallow sigh, "if I thought that, even for a second, I would have called the police myself." Regardless of the tension straining the room she's adamant, trusting in the work she and Eric have put in but their last conversation plays back in her head and while she truly believes he isn't capable of hurting anyone, she's knows his aggression can be confronting. It's the reason why she'd wanted to discuss things with Harvey like an adult, to find a solution that's in everyone's best interests. "I recommended we start our sessions again- "

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." His hands fly up in frustration, the confession clearly illuminating her worry and he's done screwing around with her evasiveness. If she won't tell him exactly what's going on he'll find out for himself and he wrenches on his heel trying to swallow the fast beats of concern that drive him towards the door.

"Harvey, wait..." she follows after him, desperation rushing over her stand to be rational. It would be pointless asking where he's going -that much is obvious- but she's still hoping, praying, there's something left that's salvage between them. She isn't the first person in the world to make a mistake and her gaze stings with unshed tears, sensing it's futile but still laying it all out between them. "If you leave now... we're done."

He meets her eyes for the final time not an ounce of regret behind his bitterness. They were done the moment she brought Donna into this and after everything she's confessed to tonight he has no shame in admitting it. "Goodbye Paula."

The forceful slam of wood ricochets around her and a sob builds as the viscous truth continues to rattle.

Harvey Specter is only ever going fight for one woman.

And it's never going to be her.