AN: Okay, this was brought to you by a tweet by darveycaptain regarding that dress/camisole/whatever Donna wore under her coat to meet with Mark in episode 708. Beatriz ( raffertymacht) sent me the prompt and this is an early birthday present for her - hope she likes it and hope everyone else enjoys it too. We venture into a little bit of AU here. It's different from what I usually write but I had a lot of fun thinking about their reactions in this specific situation. And thus... the fic was written. Much thanks to everyone involved in this - you know who you are (looking at you and your three minute audio, Bia). Let me know your thought and happy birthday Beatriz! :))

FAITHFUL

Her steps faltered as she reached the street. The air felt heavy around her, and even though it was chilly she felt hot, and not in a good way. Tears picked at her eyes and she ultimately decided against getting a cab. A walk might help clear her head a little.

What was she thinking, really? Mark was married. Unhappily married, but married. She had never been one to willingly get involved with unavailable men. Emotionally unavailable, yes. Technically, actually unavailable? No. She had liked him, all those years ago. Theirs had been a relationship she had had faith in, until he figured out where her heart truly was. She thought that, in a way, Mark had been more observant than herself, at least at the time; she hadn't been willing to face the truth behind her relationship to Harvey then. He had wanted her to, and in the end, she chose Harvey and lost Mark. She was upset for maybe two weeks, and then life was back to normal once more.

Ultimately, she always stood by her choices. It was no one's fault, or at least it hadn't been Harvey's, anyway. Maybe it had been Mark's fault a little for the ultimatum, but she believed he had been protecting his own heart at the time. She couldn't fault him for that.

So why even call him? She broke his heart in the past, and in doing so she thought she broke her own heart a little, in a way. By losing him, she felt she lost that little bit of herself that still wanted to move on. And she felt that way towards more ex-boyfriends, not just Mark. Sure, he had been thoughtful, and sure, things always felt a little unfinished between them. In the end, he was… Mark. Married, but still Mark. And she was still Donna.

And Harvey was still Harvey.

Harvey, who was currently celebrating a two-month anniversary with his goddamn former therapist. Which had to be wrong on… so many levels. Donna wasn't an expert in psychology but she felt pretty sure this was just bad for both parts. Even if it wasn't legally wrong, it seemed morally wrong in some way. And maybe just… proof that Harvey still needed therapy in the first place.

Still, that was was got Donna where she was right now, she all led to here, in a way: the problem with the Donna, her promotion, her wanting more, him driving off to his therapist the very next day. It was absurd that she thought he had been driving that black Ferrari Daytona in some ridiculous way of, she wasn't sure, trying to find enough courage to go for it? For this? For her?

And instead… Paula Agard.

Donna shook her head. This really had to be the bottom for her.

And then being COO, fighting to be respected, Harvey hiding this relationship from her. He never… in all their time together, he never hid a relationship. Sure, he never announced it but they were always comfortable enough that she could tease him about it. She guessed that changed over the years — she remembered Stephen Huntley, and Mitchell, and him telling her about Paula. When did they become the kind of people who had to let the other know they were seeing someone?

Seeing Paula today, giving him a two-month anniversary present — him, who always mocked people for celebrating minor milestones — and hearing about her reservation at his favorite restaurant… it was just too much. She always ignored this pang in her chest whenever she thought of Harvey that way, but lately she thought maybe, just maybe, they were finally getting there. His family was close again, and the two of them were still close, or so she thought. The realization that perhaps she had just helped Harvey through stuff so that he could go and find the one…

The one that wasn't her.

It could always happen. She always knew that. She knew she might not be the one for him.

Deep down, she wanted to believe she was. She thought she was. She stayed, and she did… she did love him. If she couldn't say it out loud she could at least think it. Because Donna knew him, and she loved him. With all his faults and all his issues, she kept on loving him.

She loved him.

Her steps faltered, and she felt a little out of breath. She felt cold, all of a sudden, and very much alone. Wearing a thin camisole and the rosé coat and amid the hustle and bustle of New York City, she felt very much alone and very cold. She resumed her walking.

She loved Harvey. And Harvey obviously didn't love her that way. Mark did — maybe love was too strong a word but he definitely desired her. They had a good time together in the past. It seemed like the perfect way out and yet…

She couldn't do this. She couldn't lie to herself anymore. To others, yes. To Harvey, if necessary. But to herself… not anymore. In lying to herself like this she almost lost sight of who she was, and she wasn't someone who slept with another woman's husband in his hotel room. It was as simple as that. Mark would have been simple and straight and a fast way to feel good — feel good for a few moments only. If she felt like crap for simply going there, she couldn't begin to wonder how she would have felt if she had actually gone through with this.

She just… hated this. Hated how it made her feel, hated how it made her second guess everything she's worked for, in her entire life. It wasn't the first time she wondered if living her life so near Harvey's robbed her of something, anything. It would hardly be the last time she'd think that. But for the first time, she really questioned her decisions. Herself. Him, her. Where did one end and the other begin? Those lines had been blurred for so long, but now she thought they had never been further apart and those lines were more blurred than ever.

Donna took a deep breath and finally checked her surroundings. What she saw was enough to make her shake her head.

You've got to be fucking kidding me.

There she was, in front of Harvey's building. And she hadn't even noticed it.

She stopped, but it was just for a second. She kept on walking, and tried not to think of Harvey upstairs with Paula, or maybe his condo empty because he was at Paula's place instead. People had lives, Donna repeated to herself. Harvey had a life. He always had a life that she wasn't privy to, but this was just… this hurt. So goddamn much.

The sight of the black Lexus made her stop in her tracks. She had passed the entrance to the building, but the street was currently occupied. She felt as if a bucket of icy water was thrown at her, and she didn't know what to do. She, Donna Paulsen, didn't know what to do, because she would recognize that black Lexus anywhere and she really wasn't ready to face Harvey and especially Paula this evening, not again, not while she felt like pure shit.

So she did the only thing she could do — she kept walking, a little hurriedly, ahead of the car, and as she passed it she could see her way out clearly: crossing the street. The further away, the better. Preferably without looking back.

She looked nowhere but ahead of her, until his voice made her stop in her tracks.

"Donna?"

She closed her eyes. Shit.

She turned around, and there was Harvey. Closing the door behind him. Wearing casual clothes under his coat (and damn, she wished she didn't appreciate him wearing casual clothes so much. Not today, anyway) and a bewildered look on his face. She looked to the other side, expecting to see Paula leaving the car as well, even if Harvey usually walked to open the door for her whenever they did go out together. Maybe it was different between the new couple, she thought bitterly.

She braced herself, feeling as if she could be physically sick, but the doors remained closed.

"Are you okay?" Harvey drew the attention back to himself. Donna gulped a little. He was alone. Frowning at her, walking closer to where she stood. She didn't reply. "You look like you've just seen a ghost."

She shook her head, blinking, trying to make sense of reality. "Sorry."

Harvey was still frowning, the car still parked. She would refuse a ride home from Ray if he insisted on it. It was obvious she hadn't been able to clear her head yet.

"Is everything okay?" Harvey asked again. She nodded. "The firm?"

Well, this was the entrance of his building, after all. He probably thought something important happened. She shook her head again.

"It's all fine, Harvey. I just needed to clear my head and ended up here," she explained.

Harvey still looked almost concerned — it wasn't his thing, she knew, but she saw the concern behind his eyes.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Donna continued, turning around to cross the street like she had been meaning to do moments before.

"Donna," he called again, and she stopped again, but didn't turn around. "Why don't you come on up? You're shaking."

Was she? She looked down at her hands, noticed the way her arm did shake. More from emotion than the actual weather, she thought. The hand that was clutching her bag tightened its grip. This was a fly or fight situation if she had ever seen one.

"I don't want to impose, Harvey," Donna found herself saying, turning around slightly but not meeting his eyes. She was too afraid of what she'd find in them. "Especially on your anniversary plans."

She tried not to add any bite to it. Things were still on shaky ground after she returned his key — the same key she had kept for over twelve years. It wasn't her right anymore — she wondered if she had ever had that right in the first place. She had only used that key in a handful of occasions, even, and it was funny because she had his key but she never gave hers to him. Not because she didn't trust him with it, but because he already had so much of her… a key would have been solid proof that what he had was more than she did.

"There aren't any plans," Harvey said simply. "Come on, Donna. We can have a drink and just lie back a little. You look like you need it."

Could they? Simply have a drink and lie back? She couldn't remember the last time they did that.

She nodded, and on shaky footsteps she met him on the sidewalk again. Harvey waved at Ray and Donna threw a smile the driver's way before he drove off. She put her free hand inside the pocket of her coat and took a deep breath. Harvey was watching Ray drive away as well, and she thought he looked… stressed. With something on his mind. A while back she would have asked him about it. Today she kept silent.

"Let's go," he said her way, turning around and giving her time and space to join his side as they walked. He didn't reach for her and didn't guide her like he sometimes did.

She couldn't remember the last time they really touched.

It was definitely a first for them, though — to have drinks in Harvey's apartment. His condo always felt like a strange territory for her. That was where he took his conquests, where he had scotch with Mike or Jessica or even Louis on occasion. But it was never a place for Donna, or so she had always thought. It was his separate life from her, a part of him she had never let herself be privy too, and it felt weird to follow him inside his apartment like this, during nighttime, to have a drink.

In the back of her mind, she wondered if this was the end of them. That he'd finally allow her inside and then it would all be over. He felt so distant from her, ever since her promotion and his dating Paula, that two months felt like an eternity — an eternity where she didn't know him and felt him slipping away from her and there was nothing she could do about it.

"How did you know about the anniversary?" He asked as he took off his coat.

"I saw Paula at the office, earlier today," Donna answered. She shook her head when he offered to get her coat. She'd keep it on. What she wore underneath hadn't been for him anyway. "She, ah, seemed to have it all figured out. Carbone and a present."

"Yeah. She asked Mike about the restaurant," Harvey told her, moving towards the scotch already.

Donna put her bag on the kitchen counter and let out a sigh. His apartment was dark and the fireplace wasn't lit. It never felt homely to her, and today it felt particularly cold and big. Maybe she should have gone home straight from the hotel.

Still, she felt a thrill upon the comment — that Paula had to call Mike about the restaurant. So she didn't know all about Harvey yet.

"It's your favorite," Donna noted. She had never gone there with him, but she knew he favored it. Harvey didn't comment on it. "I thought you didn't like milestones."

She couldn't help it. She knew him. She knew this wasn't his usual self.

With his back turned towards her as he poured them a drink, he shrugged. "I like them when the person I care about likes them."

Her heart fell and he turned around. She masked it quickly, accepting the tumbler he was offering and taking a big gulp of the scotch because she needed it to ground her. The entire evening had been way too long and way too difficult without it.

Harvey downed his scotch in one go, and moved to get a refill. He took the bottle with him and sat on one of the couches. Donna did the same, although chose not to sit next to him. Within good distance of the bottle. She drank the rest of her drink and felt the liquid warming her insides, making her a little less fidgety and more like herself. She reached for the bottle and refilled her glass as well.

"Carbone isn't my favorite," Harvey mentioned after a moment, without meeting her gaze.

Donna frowned. "I would have told her Carbone if she had asked me."

Paula never would have asked her and they both knew it, but her sentiment was honest.

"That's because you wouldn't have mentioned Del Posto," Harvey said, his lips upturning a little, before he took a sip of the scotch.

Donna crossed her legs, feeling a little better, and let out a laugh. "I thought we went there because it's my favorite."

"It can be lots of people's favorite," he retorted, eyes glinting a little. "It's mine too. But I only go there once a year, with one person."

Donna looked down. They skipped it this year. Last year had been… different. If she hadn't been with Mitchell, she didn't know what would have happened — she remembered how he looked across from her, suggesting they should do that more often. This year, he had just told her about Paula, and neither of them mentioned their anniversary. Milestones — the only one he seemed to like was that one, with her. Their work anniversary.

Not anymore, apparently.

"We should go there sometime," he suggested. "Doesn't have to be our anniversary."

Against her better judgment, Donna smiled. "I'd like that."

He smiled too.

"I'm not sure Paula would be happy about it," Donna couldn't help but add. "This afternoon I got the feeling she doesn't like me much."

Harvey's face was unreadable for a moment. For a moment she thought she had said the wrong thing, but for now she couldn't care less. He was the one who invited her in, he was the one who mentioned Del Posto, he was the one who kept pulling her close and then pushing her away because of a girlfriend of his or a boyfriend of hers or firm drama or their own feelings.

Not her. She had done that, in the past, after the other time, even after being fired, but time brought her clarity and wisdom to deal with these matters, at least in a way that she didn't run from them. Calling Mark had been running. She didn't do that anymore.

That was Harvey's thing.

"Paula suggested we take a break during dinner," Harvey revealed, eyes staring at his own glass. "To figure out what we want. Whatever that is."

She raised her gaze, surprised at the admission. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "She had her reasons. I forgot the anniversary and I tried to cover it up by giving her your key," he pursed his lips. Donna's eyes faltered, blinked once, twice. That key wasn't hers anymore. "The keychain had your initials."

Ah. That old thing. It was hardly Donna's fault his key looked exactly the same as her own apartment's. That she chose his key to add that keychain to was another story — she wasn't sure she was willing to go down that road yet.

"She didn't accept it," Harvey continued. "I'm glad she didn't."

"I'm sorry, Harvey."

He looked at her then. "Are you?"

"Yes. I want you to be happy," Donna said honestly. "Even if it bothers me."

"Yeah, well, I wasn't happy," he snickered. His tumbler was empty once more. He filled it up again. "I still am not."

"I'm sure she just needs some time to deal with this," Donna found herself saying.

She mentally kicked herself at the same time for it. Kicked herself for saying this to make him feel better, to put his interests first, to forget about hers. All her adult life she had been putting him first and she was finally getting tired of it.

"Maybe," he agreed. "Why were you here?"

She downed the rest of her scotch. "I told you. I needed to clear my head and I happened to be here."

He frowned. "Did anything happen?"

He was opening up to her. Perhaps she could open up to him as well.

"I was supposed to meet with Mark this evening. We dated a while back," she revealed. It was as painful to say it as it was painful to think it. She knew Harvey would remember him too. He had probably been her most serious boyfriend in all of their time together. "I couldn't do it."

Harvey's face is unreadable. "Why?"

She paused, unsure of what to say. They had never been good at lying to each other.

"Because he's married."

That did it. It was finally out there. She was still ashamed, but it felt better to put this out there than keep it to herself. She doubted Harvey would have the words of wisdom she needed to hear it, but as far as she thought honesty was the best policy.

Still, she braced herself for his response.

"Married?" He repeated. "Jesus, Donna."

"Don't you dare," Donna started. "Don't you dare judge me for it."

"You know how I feel about cheating," Harvey told her. His face told her everything — he was shocked, and hurt, and she knew him enough to know that he was jealous.

He was jealous, and he'd never admit it.

"How you feel? How you feel?" Donna repeated, standing up. "Believe it or not, Harvey, this isn't about how you feel. I called Mark because we had a good time in the past and I hoped we could relive that in the present."

"But you found out he was married," Harvey retorted.

"And I didn't go through with it because I am not that person," she said, adjusting her coat and shaking her head. "But God, I wish I was sometimes. Because at least I'd have been able to forget for a few hours."

She was desperate for something — to feel anything beyond this grief and this distance, to feel like this could be mended or even just return for what it used to be, but she was afraid that was long past them. She was afraid they'd never be able to get past this.

"Forget what?" Harvey asked her.

"You know what, Harvey," Donna replied impatiently. "Why did you invite me to come up?"

"Why did you go to him?" Harvey retorted, and she saw him standing up too.

She took her bag from the counter and took a deep breath. "Because he was there, Harvey. He wanted me and he knew me, and I just…"

"You'd have been with him, then? If he wasn't married?" Harvey asked, the distance screaming between them.

"Probably," she admitted. "I just wanted to feel like myself again. To feel desired, to feel good."

He stared at her — in the darkness of his condo, she felt his brown eyes bore into her, even with all this space between them, and she felt this was already going way too far and way too messy. They both had a few drinks, they both had crappy evenings, they both had too much history and too much distance and too little communication. It was too much. It was more than she could handle.

Her head buzzed as she shook it.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Harvey," she said, as softly as she could, and turned around to leave.

"Why did you call him in the first place?" His voice was despondent — a little detached, a little hazy. They had a few drinks but not enough for this.

She just about had it with this conversation.

"Why did you fuck your therapist, Harvey?" Donna asked, turning to face him.

He was silent. She let out a humorless laugh.

"Afraid to say it? That's not a surprise," she shook her head. "You don't get to judge me for wanting to feel good in the arms of a man who actually cared about me in the past when the moment I told you I wanted more you ran to the arms of a woman who used to be your fucking therapist."

"It's not illegal—"

"You never once mentioned her, in one year, and then when I tell you I want more you run to a woman who you thought knew you," Donna continued. The tears picked at her eyes, but she endured. "A woman who supposedly helped you through your issues. Who gave you clarity when your mind was clouded. You went to her because you couldn't face me. Because once again I asked too much of you."

She shook her head. When would it end? When would they be on the same page? When would he realize…

She stopped herself from thinking any further.

"The thought of you with him makes me…" Harvey started.

This fueled her anger. "The thought of me with him makes you what, Harvey?" She asked. "What? Because I didn't fuck him. But you fucked her. I'm not saying I'm the best out of the two of us, I know I wasn't doing the right thing, but at least I didn't fuck him in the end."

Donna took a deep breath, running a hand through her hair.

"I'm tired, Harvey," she admitted. "I'm tired and I wanted to feel wanted. I wanted to feel anything other than this dread I feel when I see you and realize you're with her. Because I want to be happy for you, and I want you to be happy, even if it's not with me."

Silence again.

Once again, not a surprise. She averted his gaze, so deep against hers, and saw the hurt behind his eyes, the surprise, and something else there too. Shaking her head, she turned around, this time to really leave, because there had been way too much damage already and she wasn't sure how they'd survive this without adding more fuel to it.

She just wanted to be alone. Without any thoughts of Harvey and Paula and Mark.

She felt a hand on her wrist, pulling her close and she half turned, mouth ajar, to see Harvey so close to her. Closer than they had been in a long time. His palm felt hot against her skin and she didn't understand what was going on until he spoke.

"I've wanted you every day for the last twelve years, and longer than that even," he told her, dark eyes boring into hers. "It bothers me every time I see you with any other guy because I know that's not me. And it kills me because giving into that with you would ultimately mean losing you in the first place."

"Losing me?" Donna frowned.

"I will always screw up. I keep screwing up," Harvey said. "Going to Paula was a mistake but it felt right then because I'd be unavailable for us. You're growing into something more, way beyond me, and I can't… I can't risk you, Donna."

"You're a gambler," Donna murmured. His palm was soft against her wrist, his thumb right over her pulse point. She breathed, in, out. He was too close. "Why can't you risk this? What makes you think this wouldn't be a win, Harvey?"

"You're too big of a risk to take, Donna," he said as if this pained him. "You're bigger than any risk I've ever taken or will ever take."

To see him like this, so open and vulnerable, to hear these words, finally hear him admit so, it made her heart sing and cry at the same time. Either this worked out or didn't, it was as simple as that, but if he never took the risk then they'd never leave this fragile state of being.

She wasn't sure how long she'd be able to take it.

"I've always had faith in you," she interrupted him. "Why can't you have faith in us?"

She opened her palm — his slid down to hers. Their fingers intertwined, naturally, mechanically, like pieceworks of a clock. He was so close — so close, and yet she couldn't see much beyond his dark eyes. Beyond the way he looked at her. She couldn't say how long they stood there, in the middle of his hallway. He leaned closer, only to pull back a little. She closed her eyes. Their breaths mingled as they moved— closer and then further away, inches between them oscillating over the attraction, an attraction bigger than their bodies or their souls. It was a dance of sorts, only they took the figurative version of it all these years. It was a part of her, a part of them, and she couldn't do this anymore.

She made to pull away, for good now. She couldn't take this anymore.

He pulled her closer.

Her eyes opened and his lips were on hers and she stood there, paralyzed. His tongue probed her mouth and she opened her lips and closed her eyes only for him to pull back. Their eyes met.

"The thought of you with anyone else makes me lose my mind," he confessed, nose brushing against hers, labored breaths mingling.

She pulled her free hand from his to caress his face. She couldn't remember the last time they touched so freely. Probably the other time.

"Don't you understand, Harvey?" Donna whispered against his lips. "We'll never be happy with anyone else. Not really."

Before she knew it, he was kissing her again, hands low on her back to bring her closer. She was surprised by it, and vaguely thought of her bag slipping from her hand and onto the floor, but his tongue rolled against hers and he felt solid and real and so unlike any of the dreams she used to have. They kissed like they talked — both taking and taking and not letting the other think about it. She had forgotten how good it was to kiss him — how good it was to be close to him like this.

She felt intoxicated.

Harvey pulled away, allowing her to breathe a little, only to bury his head on the crook of her neck and kiss her there as well. She felt the hairs of her arms stand up as he did so, and then she lost her footing because it was all too sudden, all too much, and she felt hot all over, the heat between them growing as they touched, as they kissed.

She let go of him to unbutton her coat, feeling the harsh coldness of the air hit her skin, and then Harvey pulled away and helped her take the coat off, eyes lingering over her form. She shivered, from both the cold and his stare, she thought, suddenly feeling self conscious. She didn't wear this with him in mind, and yet here they were. Judging by the way he was looking at her now, how his hands slipped from her back to her waist and finally her breasts, he was thinking the same thing.

"No bra," he groaned against her ear.

She shook her head weakly, her palms working their way up and down his chest.

Before she knew it he was backing her up against the glass windows of his condo, the New York City lights flickering behind her. She parted her legs slightly and he kept them that way with his knee nudging between them. She unzipped his sweater and with his help was able to take it off of him quickly, and then met his lips in a kiss, then another, then another. Her hips moved of their own accord, feeling his hardness against her hip bone, but there was still too much between them. Too many clothes, layers, too many emotions.

She felt she could do with the emotions now.

He had her pinned to the glass with hips and he too was moving — too slow and too fast at the same time. Donna didn't feel like herself — this felt too surreal, too much like a dream.

She kissed him again. He definitely didn't feel this real in her dreams.

She raised one leg to his waist, bringing him closer to her. She lost her heel at the movement, and he groaned at the proximity of their bodies. His hand pressed against her breast and then her belly and settled on the curve of her hip before moving down, down, down.

"Harvey," she breathed.

He groaned — either at the tone of her voice or because his fingers were just met by her own wetness. His touch was light and tentative and made her swallow back a moan. She reached between them too, her hand finding his hardness, palm pressing against him through the material of his pants.

"Fuck," he mumbled against her neck. "Donna."

It was too much.

It wasn't enough.

"I've wanted you forever," Harvey whispered against her ear. He slid one finger, thrusting slowly. Donna let out a moan; she couldn't help it. "I'll always want you."

Another finger joined the first one. She slid her hands up and gripped at his shoulders, her head falling back against the window. His thumb brushed against her clit, once, twice, and then with more purpose. The leg that had been supporting her on the floor shook — but Harvey got her, slipping his hand away and holding both her legs around his waist.

"Bed?" He asked, lips descending from her neck to her collarbone.

"Yes," Donna nodded, hands moving to his face to kiss his lips once more, twice more.

To her surprise, he adjusted his hands on her thighs, down her bottom and lifted her. She helped and held onto to his shoulders, her hair falling around their faces as he managed to carry her. For the first time since she got here, they share a true laugh, noses pressed together as he slowly walked them to his bedroom.

"I can walk, you know," Donna said after a second, eyes memorizing his face from such close angle. She traced his mouth with her gaze, his nose, the moles on his eyebrow, before settling on his own eyes. A part of her was afraid that he was regretting starting this. When their eyes met, however, she saw nothing like that in them.

"Not with just one shoe on, you can't," Harvey replied.

She snickered. She still only had the one heel on, after all.

At last, they made it to the bedroom. He rested her there slowly, as if she was made of glass, and she let herself sigh and lie down as he kissed her again, first her lips, then her jaw, to her neck and collarbone, palms cupping her breasts over the flimsy material of her gown. Every now and then one of his hands would go to her hair, fingers mesmerized by it, eyes sometimes following.

He pulled away from her and she protested — when he didn't return to her immediately Donna sat up in the middle of the bed, elbows supporting her torso as she looked over at him. She didn't know what she expected — a confession that they couldn't do this? That by doing this things would never be the same? — but she felt relief wash over her when she noticed he was simply undressing.

He took off his undershirt first, then his pants and boxer briefs, and she bit her lip as she looked at him — over the years she rarely allowed herself to do this. It felt too much an intrusion. She had seen him naked years ago, she had licked whipped cream from some of his most intimate body parts, and yet checking him out when he walked had been off limits for almost a decade.

Not anymore. Not tonight.

His body was more toned than before, that was for sure — years of boxing would do that to a guy, she supposed.

She reached for him, and he pressed a knee on the bed. Her fingers traced the skin of his chest, the muscles twitching ever so slightly under her touch, down his belly button and downwards until she encircled him with her wrist. Harvey hissed, their faces meeting once more, and she let herself savor this — her hand around him, his lips on hers, his hand on her gown, feeling her underneath the material.

"You didn't wear this for me," he muttered as they pulled away.

Donna shook her head.

"You better take it off, then," she shrugged, and it was enough for him to gather the material of the dress; she raised her arms to help him, effectively losing contact for a moment, and then the gown was being thrown somewhere behind them.

"Let's burn it tomorrow," Harvey suggested, fully rest on top of her then.

"It's Prada," she managed to say before he kissed her again.

His hands found her breasts, now uncovered, and she shivered as he squeezed and traced her nipples with this thumbs before his hands moved lower.

"I'll buy you a new one," he offered. "I want you now."

This last statement was more of a breath, really, but she caught it anyway. She assisted him by raising her hips when he finally held the hem of her panties, raising her knees to he could take it off faster. Only then they remembered her remaining shoe, and she'd have laughed at this if he hadn't thrown it behind them without much care and proceeded to cover her body with his again.

She reached between them, found him hot against her thigh, heavy against her palm. His own hands seemed to wander over her body, as if in awe that this was really happening — she shared the sentiment. A moan escaped her as he bit gently at her collarbone, then moved downwards to one of her breasts, mouth closing against her nipple.

"Harvey," she breathed. "Harvey."

He looked up then, a little alarmed. But she traced his jawline with her hand while the other kept working on him, and pulled him closer until they were face to face.

"I need you," Donna muttered. His hands pressed at her hips. "I need you now."

She pressed her hips against him and pushed at his chest, effectively rolling them over until she was on top of him. He was smiling at her and she wanted this to be them — she wanted them to have fun and be committed to each other and be more about smiling and feeling content and less about dreading and not communicating with each other.

"We can't go back from this," she told him a little breathlessly, straddling his thighs, feeling him press against her. She moved her hands, each on both sides of his head on the mattress, her hair covering them both. Her eyelids fluttered, but her statement was serious enough to keep them both grounded.

For now.

One of his hands held her at her waist, while the other reached for her face, then tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It was a simple gesture, but one so strange to her that made her heart skip a beat.

"No, we can't," he agreed.

This was really happening.

She swallowed, her body very still on top of him. Then she nodded.

His arms encircled her waist, pulling her close. She adjusted her position as their lips met, and it really felt as if not a day had passed between their first time and now. They were still Harvey and Donna. They'd always be Harvey and Donna.

Her hand reached for him and she raised her hips a little until he was at her entrance. They were always in sync, that never changed, and he thrusted upwards at once, before she could even know what was happening, and it felt so good to be stretched by him, so good to feel him so close to her and yet still not close enough — she had to interrupt their kiss because it was just too much.

"I love you," Donna breathed, one of her hands cradling his face close, and fuck, she couldn't take it back but she couldn't stop it either.

His brown eyes met hers, but she didn't let him reply, not when he was finally buried inside her and their breaths felt labored and she felt so overwhelmed — by this entire evening, by him, by them. So she kissed him again and started moving. He quickly followed her rhythm, bodies moving together, breaths mingling, sweaty skin on sweaty skin.

She had never forgotten their first time, not really, but that had been… they were kids then. That was just for fun, that was… absolutely without any further expectations. This was bigger than that — this was the two of them as themselves, this wasn't just for fun, this was… possibly for life.

She shuddered. His fingers dug into her hips, urging her to move faster. She pulled away slightly to raise her body from him, sitting on him fully before moving again, hands on his chest. He followed, hands on her ass and lips on her breasts, and she felt him everywhere. One of her hands ran over his hair and she cupped his cheeks to kiss his lips — once, twice, changing the angles of their heads, finding a rhythm which they both liked.

His hand moved down to where they were joined and he pressed two of his fingers against her, massaging in just the way she liked it, and she couldn't believe he remembered her body like this. She gasped for air, pulling away from his lips, their eyes never leaving each other as they moved.

"Donna," Harvey murmured, and it had to be the most delicious sound she had ever heard. "Donna."

She nodded in understanding, kissing him again, and his fingers worked her faster and then she was shuddering against him, coming fast and hard, her movements faltering a little. He held her close, still thrusting, and it wasn't long until he was grunting and coming inside her. He buried his face on her neck, hands clutching at her waist. Their breathing was fast and loud, limbs tangled together and unwilling to separate just yet, sitting in bed like this.

That was when she heard it.

"I love you too."

It was more of a groan than a confession, she supposed. That didn't stop the tears to pick at her eyes. She had heard those words from him before. In the past they had hurt. Now… she felt loved.

Truly loved.

He pressed his lips against her skin and she pulled at his hair so they could look each other in the face.

Instead of saying anything, they just looked at each other.

Openly, unwavering. She couldn't remember the last time they had been able to do that.

Instead of mulling over what just happened, what was just said, she let herself forget whatever led her here in the first place, and savored his embrace, his skin clinging to hers and his lips marked by her lips.

It was enough for now.

Donna woke to the smell of coffee and the morning light on her face. The entire night seemed like a dream, and yet she found herself in Harvey's bed, naked, hair in a complete disarray, she had no doubt of it, and with him nowhere to find, apparently.

She sighed. They had so much to talk about — although they did talk through the night, in between the first and second round of sex, before they both succumbed to sleep. It was funny — she was never that comfortable sleeping naked with someone else beside her. Of course it would be different with him.

She stretched in bed. They both agreed this was something they couldn't take back, and while she was glad for it, some questions still spurred in her mind — his break with Paula, whatever that meant, her entire thing with Mark. None of them seemed to matter last night, but now, in the light of day, there were things to be considered.

She let out a deep breath and sat up. The bed was a mess — they had foregone the comforter and there was more than just a little last night on the sheets. She looked around the bedroom, snickering at his clothes crumpled in a corner and her dress and only one shoe on another, far from the bed. She chose his undershirt as cover, glad that it was big enough to cover her modesty — just a little anyway — and went off to find him.

There was something to be said about his condo in daylight, with sunlight streaming through the windows, her clothes all over the floor, and him, standing in only his boxer briefs, preparing two mugs of coffee.

It felt homely to her. Finally.

She adjusted his shirt on her and met his eyes — he smiled softly, in that way where his eyes crinkled and glimmered, and made her heart skip a beat.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hey," she replied, a faint blush spreading through her. She thought he looked a little nervous too. They never did this before — the morning after thing.

"I, uh, texted Louis to let him know you'll be late," Harvey told her as she approached him.

She rounded the counter and took the offered mug with a raised eyebrows.

"Won't that raise some questions?" She asked.

Harvey shrugged. "I don't care. Plus, he hasn't even replied yet."

She would take his word for it. They needed a safe ground this morning, so she turned her attention towards the coffee — a hum escaping her throat as she found it was just the way she liked it. Sometimes she forgot he knew her almost as well as she knew him.

"You okay?" He asked, scratching his cheek a little, a classic tell tale sign he was nervous but trying to pretend he wasn't.

It was endearing.

Donna smiled.

"I'm okay," she told him. "You?"

"Me, I'm great," he let her know.

She smirked into her mug as she took a sip; after swallowing, she chanced a glance at him, only to find him staring at her.

"What?" She asked with a smile. It was far too easy to fall into this happiness with him. Almost too easy.

"I really like you wearing my shirt," Harvey confessed, putting his mug on the counter and reaching for her. She melted into his embrace, resting her own mug next to his, and she couldn't help but smile at the way his hands ran over her shirt to settle low on her back and lower still. "I really like you wearing nothing underneath too."

She chuckled, raising her head to look him in the eye. She caressed the hair above his ear softly, and deep inside her she wondered if they would always be able to be like this. No secrets between them, no second thoughts.

"I just got out of bed and you want me there again," she joked.

Harvey shook his head. "Nah. I can cope with just the counter. Or the wall. Or the couch."

Donna laughed out loud at the remark.

"I want you everywhere, Donna," he told her seriously. "I'm just sorry it took me so long to admit it."

"So now you have faith in us?" She asked hopefully, her hand tracing his jaw with a finger. A light stubble was already forming there.

"I have faith in you, and you have faith in me," Harvey said. "We'll get there. I know we will."

She nodded, leaning in to capture his lips in a soft, slow kiss. They pulled away at the same time, a content sigh escaping them both, but didn't pull from their embrace. It felt so good to be able to touch him — to run her hands over this shoulders, feel his hands on her waist, his kiss on her lips. She couldn't believe they spent so much time avoiding this. It felt like home to her, like a second nature of sorts. As if his body was an extent of her own.

He pressed a kiss against her hairline, inhaling deeply, and she sighed in content.

"This is nice," she commented before she could stop herself.

She didn't have to look at him to know he was grinning.

"It is nice," he agreed.

There was silence for a moment, comfortable silence for once in their important moments with each other. She hoped there would be more to follow.

Alas, she had to break it. They still had so much to discuss.

"Do I need to watch out for potential ex-girlfriends or are all your unfinished business settled?" She asked, because she couldn't help herself.

Harvey shook his head. "All settled. You?"

"There's nothing to settle," she assured him. "I want you to know that, yesterday…"

"I'm sorry for how I reacted," he said, holding her hand that was on his chest in his. "I trust you. I know you, Donna. I just… lose it when I think of you with…"

"Well, don't," she advised him. "Because it won't happen again."

Harvey nodded. "I know it won't. I know you."

"You do know me," she agreed. "The coffee is spectacular. I'm keeping you."

He laughed. "I figured that… when you confessed you love me in the middle of sex last night."

She felt a blush work its way to her chest, then her face. "Well… I…"

He was grinning broadly at her. "Keep stumbling. Hope I'm able to do that more often in the future."

"Well, don't think I didn't hear you when you said it right after sex," Donna pointed out.

"That's a little better than during sex."

"It doesn't matter," she shrugged, eyeing him suspiciously, "unless you take it back, of course."

The grin gave way to a smile. That one smile she loved.

"I won't take it back. You?"

She smiled too.

"Me neither."

He kissed her again and she let him. This time it was him who pulled away first, forehead against hers, making no move to actually move from her arms. Her hazel eyes met his rich brown ones.

"I never should have accepted your key back," he told her seriously. "I'm sorry I tried to give it away. I don't know what I was thinking."

Donna caressed his jaw with both hands, relishing in the soft skin there. It still hurt, she wasn't going to lie. But she had more to look forward to than to resent, finally.

"Does that mean I'm getting the key back?" She asked him, nudging his nose with her own.

"It's always been yours. I mean, your initials are in it," he joked. Donna chuckled with him. "I think maybe I should finally get your key, though."

"Hm. I think we're moving too fast," she retorted jokingly, but he kept serious; she appeased him by pressing her lips against his. "I'll get you a key."

"Good. Too fast," he shook his head in disbelief. "Twelve years of too slow, and now it's too fast."

"Hey, it wasn't too slow because of me," she replied. "Well, at the beginning, maybe. But not recently."

She gave him a pointed look. Harvey rocked his body sheepishly against hers, looking like a little boy who was up for some mischief. This had been their lives, and now they were finally talking it through.

She let out a laugh.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against her ear, arms encircling her waist and bringing her even closer. The sentiment was true, she knew.

She fit her head on his shoulder and sighed.

"It's okay. We begin by making up for lost time," she joked.

Harvey groaned and pulled away just enough to kiss her, deeply this time.

Donna remembered all their arguments and all their victories and all the hurt and all the love, but it all was worth it when she felt this safe in his arms, when his scent filled her nostrils when she woke and felt it through the shirt she chose to wear. When his brown eyes turned dark to see her like this — no heels, no makeup, wearing an undershirt that belonged to him. When she spoke to him and she could be herself, and not rely on hidden meanings behind empty words. That wasn't them. This was what they were now — who they were. Together.

She hoped they would be able to be like this forever, but the daylight did bring her clarity — in the form of him, half dressed, smiling at her like she lit up the entire room just for him.

It wouldn't be like this forever. She had faith it would, in fact, only get better in the future.