Thank you to Sarah (catsballeths) for encouraging me to keep going with this one and to Maya (anonymousdh) for the tweet that inspired this.

Set in 6a, so Mike is in prison

Harvey had always liked election night. He didn't care much for the day to day of politics, but election night was a different story. When it came down to it, it was all about the odds. How many states could a candidate afford to lose as long as they won some other ones? How many paths to victory did they have? Where was the point of no return?

It'd become somewhat of an unspoken tradition that he and Jessica spend election night at the firm together, nursing a glass of scotch and watching the returns come in in one of the conference rooms. The tradition had accidentally started in 2008 with a last minute case that left them working late into the night. Jessica had planned to join some law school friends to watch the results, but by the time they'd finished working it was close to 11 so she took Harvey up on his offer to join him for a drink in front of the TV in the conference room.

He'd just returned with their drinks when the networks called the race for Obama after he'd won Virginia. Seeing the wide smile appear on Jessica's face, he passed her a glass and wordlessly they toasted to the history they'd just witnessed. Stealing another glance at her he noticed tears forming in her eyes - in all the years he'd known her, he could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen her break a sweat, let alone cry. But he wasn't an idiot - he knew this was a watershed moment, and he couldn't even begin to understand what it must mean to Jessica.

"I've met her," she said, gesturing to Michelle as they watched the new first family take the stage for his victory speech.

"She was a third year at Harvard when I started and was the TA for my first year seminar," she explained, "I was immediately impressed by how smart and well spoken she was, and then when she corrected the professor, who was white and older than dirt, without breaking a sweat, I thought damn, she's going places," she said, never taking her eyes off the TV screen.

Election night 2012 unfolded in a similar fashion except, without a case to distract her, Jessica spent most of the night pacing around the conference room as Obama and Romney raced each other to that magical 270. Donna was with them that night and as much as she tried to hide it, Harvey could tell that she was as anxious as Jessica was. When Obama won Ohio and the networks finally called the race, the three of them let out sighs of relief. Donna crossed the room to where the scotch decanter sat on the window sill and topped off their glasses.

"To four more years," she said, raising her glass in a toast.

"To four more years."

There'd been an energy building at the firm that week, throughout the entire city of New York and across the country really. Hushed, but excited conversations in kitchens and hallways, an almost explosive increase in the number of pantsuits worn by female partners and associates. Harvey stopped by Donna's cubicle in between meetings and noticed a blue Hillary pin tacked up next to some papers. When he commented on it, she didn't even try to hide her smile. She was excited, she was motivated, and she wanted everyone to know it. Harvey grinned at her before turning to go to his next meeting. He'd felt the momentum building too, and seeing Donna as giddy as she was made him even more excited for what he was sure was going to unfold the next day.

Donna took to Hillary's candidacy like a duck to water, signing up almost immediately for monthly donations to the campaign. She'd never been one to be involved in politics to this degree - she voted in every election, but had never felt such excitement for a candidate and the newness in that feeling fueled her excitement even more. She and Rachel had made the last-minute decision to volunteer with the campaign in Philadelphia the weekend before Election Day and they both had an absolute blast. They spent the afternoon knocking on doors and that evening they attended a campaign rally outside of Independence Hall. Their eyes filled with tears as President Obama introduced Hillary as the next President of the United States. They embraced one another as she spoke, certain they were witnessing history.

When it became clear that she'd be running against Donald Trump, Donna's heart stopped. Not just because of the ludicrous things he stood for, but because someone like Hillary deserved an opponent who was her intellectual equal. She was the most qualified person in history running for the presidency. She deserved someone who'd stand across from her on that debate stage, look her in the eye, and critique the finer points of her policy. Instead, she got someone who vilified her mere existence and loomed behind her like an animal stalking his prey as she outlined her vision for America.

As the campaign progressed, Donna and Harvey fell into a sort of rhythm. She'd wordlessly slide a file across his desk and he'd understand what he was expected to do. In her spare time she started digging into the backgrounds of some of their more nefarious clients and, when Donna found out that a client had donated to the Trump campaign, hosted an event, or publicly defended one of his policies, she'd pass the file to Harvey and every time, he'd find a subtle and tactful way to dismiss them. The pair never spoke about it, and did their best to keep it from Jessica even though Harvey knew deep down that she'd approve. She'd never say it out loud, he understood, but he knew she'd be on his side.

"Hey," he said one day as she passed him yet another file, "I'm sorry he was ever a client, even if it was just a few weeks."

"Harvey," she started, knowing he was referring to that business deal he'd gotten Trump out of years before, but he interrupted her before she could say anything more.

"I'm serious, Donna," he continued, "if I knew what a piece of shit he'd turn out to be I'd have let him shoot himself in the mouth. Hell, I'd have shot him myself," he joked weakly, making her crack a smile.

"It's okay," she assured him, getting the idea that he'd been beating himself up about it for awhile, "you deal with a lot of assholes," she teased, "you had no way of knowing this asshole would one day run for president."

The first polls close at 7pm, so Harvey makes sure the TV in the conference room is set up and ready to go by then. Ray delivers dinner from Donna's favorite shitty Thai place and Harvey sets a bottle of champagne on ice and gets out four champagne glasses for later. For now, though, he grabs the bottle of scotch from his office and preemptively pours a glass for himself, Donna, Rachel, and Jessica to start off the evening.

He looks up just as Donna and Rachel enter and he can't help the smug smile that spreads across his face as Donna takes in the setup of the room.

"You hate this Thai place," she says.

"Yeah, it's pure shit," he agrees, "but tonight isn't about me."

Donna glances down as he speaks, hoping he won't notice the slight blush that's risen to her cheeks. She reaches for her tray of food and sits down next to Rachel as Jessica enters the room.

"Who's ready to kick some white boy ass tonight?" she says, her gaze pointed at Harvey as she accepts a glass from his outstretched hand.

"Someone's sure of themselves," he teases.

"Don't enter a fight you don't think you can win," she retorts as they clink their glasses together.

Soon enough, the first polls close and they're all fixated on the TV. Georgia, Indiana, Kentucky, and South Carolina are quickly called for Trump, but that's not a surprise to anyone. Harvey can see Donna's jaw tighten as the slider on the TV screen puts Trump ahead in the delegate count, but he knows that lead won't last all night. Vermont is called for Clinton and she picks up the state's 3 delegates.

"The first delegates won by a woman in a presidential election and they're from fucking Vermont," Donna says, taking a sip of her scotch.

Harvey focuses on Virginia, as results continue to come in. The network hasn't called it yet, and he knows it's an important state for Clinton. He lets out a breath as more counties come in and it looks more likely that the state will go blue.

At 7:30 West Virginia is called for Trump almost immediately and he picks up the state's 5 delegates. Ohio and North Carolina are too close to call and he takes a swing of his drink. Come on Virginia, he thinks, pull through.

A whole slew of states close at 8pm but Harvey is only focused on Florida and Pennsylvania as the rest of the states go as predicted. They still haven't called North Carolina or Ohio and now with Pennsylvania slow to report and Florida even slower, Harvey begins to tap his fingers on the table anxiously.

"She's winning," he hears Donna whisper from her place beside him, which draws his attention back to the TV screen. And sure enough, with Virginia being called for Clinton she's leading in the delegate count - 96 to his 92. It's a slim lead, but as he leans back in his chair and looks from Donna to Rachel to Jessica and sees the smiles spread across their faces he knows this is the moment they've been waiting for.

At 8:30, the polls in Arkansas close and the state's six votes go to Trump. Jessica rolls her eyes at the result and makes a comment about the state disrespecting its former First Lady. Donna, Rachel, and Jessica spend much of the next half hour chatting away - Donna shows her some photos from the campaign rally in Philadelphia as Rachel steps out to take a call from Mike.

Harvey's focus remains on states that are too close to call - North Carolina, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Florida - as the clock ticks closer to 9pm where another slew of states are set to close. He knows the night is still young, but based on all of the predictions he's read, at least one of those states should have gone blue by now. And the fact that none of them have has his mind racing.

He stands and crosses the room to the window still and tops off his glass of scotch. He feels Donna's presence at his side and wordlessly tops off her glass too. He passes it back to her with a small smile. Part of him wants to say something - express his uncertainty, or give some premature words of comfort. But she's still radiating that same excitement she's been carrying all day and he doesn't want to take that away from her just yet; not while there's a chance things could still turn around.

Nine o'clock comes around and almost instantly the network calls New York for Hillary. As soon as the state lights up blue on the map, they hear a roar of noise from outside. It's coming from Times Square where crowds are gathered to watch the returns and, even though they're blocks away, the noise sounds like it's coming from right outside the building. It's loud and infectious and, as car horns from the street below join in, Harvey watches as Donna, Rachel, and Jessica stand at the window and take it all in.

"I hope that bastard can hear this from his man cave in Trump Tower," Jessica huffs, taking a satisfied sip of her newly-filled drink.

Harvey leans back in his chair, rolling his eyes as he recalls his last conversation with Mike. The kid had mentioned that on the off chance Trump did win, he'd be the first president since Nixon to win the election but lose his home state.

The next couple of hours pass in a blur. He's aware of Donna, Rachel, and Jessica chatting and moving around the room, but he's laser focused on the states on the network's map that have yet to change from grey to blue. Florida, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and North Carolina are still too close to call and Wisconsin and Michigan closed at 9pm, and those results are coming in slower than expected.

He swirls his glass of scotch and he feels his jaw tense. At 11pm, the polls on the west coast will close and he knows she's got California in the bag. Still, even with those 55 delegates, she needs some of those other states. His eyes are laser focused on the television screen and his mind is moving a mile a minute as he does some mental math. She can lose Florida as long as she wins Pennsylvania, North Carolina, and Ohio. But if she loses Florida and one of those states, it may be game over.

Damn he thought. He knew elections could be unpredictable, but he's amazed that not a single pundit - even the ones who liked to report on worst case scenarios - had predicted things going like this.

Finally, he pulls his eyes away from the screen and catches Jessica's gaze. He can see the tightness of her jaw and can tell that she's starting to put two and two together in the same way he is. He watches as she takes a sip of her drink, leans back in her chair and tilts her head towards the ceiling and expels a slow breath.

Eleven o'clock arrives and the network calls California for Hillary. They're excited, but there's a subdued energy around the room now. A collective understanding that the night was far from over, and that this wasn't going to be as easy as it should have been.

With just the polls in Alaska and Hawaii left to close, there wasn't much to do but wait. Wordlessly, Harvey stands and leaves the conference room, his hand ghosting over Donna's shoulder and giving it the slightest squeeze as he passes her. He finds himself back in his office and decides to distract himself with some paperwork.

An hour passes and a quick glance at his phone tells him nothing has changed. He closes the folder of paperwork he'd been going through and pushes his chair back from his desk. He turns so that he's looking out the window at the city skyline. Buildings are lit up as far as he can see but somehow they look less bright than they did just a few hours ago. After a few minutes, he stands and starts wandering through the hallways. He passes the conference room expecting to see Donna, Jessica, and Rachel, but finds it empty. The TV is still on and he lets out a breath when he notices that the map is more red than the last time he looked. The bottle of champagne he set out for celebration now taunting him in the subtle glow of the TV screen, he puts the glasses away, drains the ice, and tucks the bottle back in his office hopeful that they'll find something to celebrate soon.

He continues to wander through the halls in search of Donna before he decides to head up to the roof and that's where he finds them - Rachel and Jessica are sitting on a bench off to one side and Donna is standing near the edge, a scarf wrapped tightly around her arms as her hair whips behind her in the November breeze.

"Tonight was supposed to be a celebration," she says after a moment, sensing his presence, "but now it feels like a funeral."

"I'm sorry," he breathes, turning to face her. It feels inadequate, but he really doesn't know what else to say.

"It's not your fault," she replies, shaking her head slightly as her hand moves up to quickly wipe away a stray tear, hoping he doesn't notice.

"I was just so sure," she continues, "I didn't even think about what would happen if she didn't win."

Harvey knows exactly what she means - it seemed insane just yesterday to even consider an outcome that wasn't a landslide victory for her and yet, here they were.

"He won Florida," he hears Jessica say from behind him and he turns to see her sunken expression as Rachel breaks down in sobs. Donna rushes to her side to comfort her as Harvey pulls his phone out of his pocket to see the news for himself. He runs his hand through his hair as he reads, letting out a deep breath.

"I'm going to take her home," Jessica says after a few minutes, pulling a still unconsolable Rachel to her feet. Donna pulls Rachel into a tight hug and gives her a kiss on the cheek before watching the pair disappear down the staircase.

She sinks onto the bench next to Harvey and sucks in a big breath of air. They sit silently for a while until he notices her starting to shiver and suggests they go inside. There's a million thoughts rattling around in both of their heads but neither can find the words to express what they're feeling.

It's nearing 3 am and he finds Donna asleep on the couch in his office. He tries not to wake her as he pushes the glass door open, but she stirs and shifts up to a seated position as they lock eyes.

"It's over," she says. It's not a question, but he still nods his head to confirm what she already knows.

"Wisconsin, then Pennsylvania," he explains, sinking down on the couch beside her and offering her a sip of his scotch.

"Damn," she breathes in between sips.

They're silent for a few minutes until he hears her start to cry. He leans over and grabs a box of tissues from the side table and passes them to her. He feels her head drop to his shoulder and he wants to do more to comfort her, but he knows nothing he says or does will make this any better for her, so he decides to just sit and be there for her.

"I was so sure she'd win," she says after a while, her voice still thick with tears. "One woman pushing up against 240 years of history written by men; that's hard to change. But I really thought she'd be the one to do it."

"Me too," he admits, as he tentatively moves his hand over to rest on her knee.

Donna wakes up the next morning and for the briefest moment she thinks the events of the night before were a dream, but reality comes crashing down around her the second she opens the news app on her phone.

Before she can read too far, though, she's racing to her bathroom and emptying Thai food and several glasses of scotch into the toilet. She'd almost forgotten that vomit was her body's natural reaction to deep anger and disappointment, it'd been so long since she'd felt those emotions so strongly.

She rinses her mouth out and then steps into the shower where she allows herself to break down, choking out sob after sob. She cried last night but now that she's alone she allows herself to feel the emotions deeply and grieve the loss of what could have been. She cries until there's nothing left, until the water runs cold and she can feel the start of a headache creeping in.

Her mom calls to check in as she's fixing her coffee and they talk while she gets dressed and does her make up. Her mom attempts to comfort her which makes her start to cry again and for the briefest moment, she considers faking a sick day. She knows Harvey would understand, but right now he was the exception to the rule. It'd never been a women's world and, after what'd just happened, it sure as shit wouldn't be for a long time.

He's on his way back to his office after a meeting with Louis when he gets her text. Jessica wasn't coming in today and he couldn't blame her. He knew he was only feeling a fraction of what she must be feeling and even still, he had trouble dragging himself out of bed that morning. As Ray weaved through the streets that morning he couldn't help but compare the atmosphere to September 12, 2001. The city was in mourning, people on the streets walked with their heads cast down, and the usually vibrant city felt like it had the life sucked out of it by the events that unfolded hours before. And the pouring rain certainly wasn't helping.

He passes Rachel's office and sees her and Donna huddled in front of her computer screen. He's surprised to see them both in the office, but guesses that they'd rather both be around people than in their apartments alone. He guesses that they're getting ready to watch Hillary's concession speech - he'd just gotten the news alert that it was about to start and was headed back to his office to do the same thing. He briefly considers asking them to join him, but decides against it. He didn't have the word to offer them any more comfort than what they were currently finding in one another; they didn't need him right now.

He'd sent Donna home after lunch. He could tell she was struggling to focus and keep her emotions at bay and when she didn't even protest he knew he'd made the right call. He let Rachel go too, telling her he'd pulled a few strings so she could go see Mike that afternoon, if she wanted to.

He found himself alone in his office later that afternoon, finally having a moment to take in everything that had unfolded in the past twenty four hours. Decades in the legal profession had taught him that things could turn on a dime, but never had he faced a situation where a mood had shifted so dramatically in such a short period of time - from exuberant to distraught, from hopeful to hopeless with the flip of a switch. He knew it'd take weeks, months even, for people to fully process what had happened.

He leaned back in his chair and let out a long breath. He played the odds, but he never even considered this an odd worth playing. He now realizes that maybe he was naive, but he'd always thought this is America, this is the place where the good guys win. But glaring down at the New York Times headline on his desk he comes to the stark realization that maybe the good guys only win if the good guys are actually guys.

Thanks for reading - it means a lot to me always, but especially with this one! Please leave a review :)