So I took a brief break from Implode to write this. Each part is titled after the name of a song and vary in length. I do not own these songs or anything else. Also the name of the bar I used for this story is an actual pub. Sadly I do not own that either. Hope you enjoy :)

One.

(Breathe Me)

He's still an amateur really, even though he detests the word. But he's coming off his fourth consecutive solo win and the pride that swells in his chest as he steps outside of the courtroom is definitely a feeling he could get used to.

Cameron congratulates him in a detached manner that isn't so much praise as it is him taking credit for his 'protégé'. Nevertheless, Harvey shakes his mentor's hand with a smile plastered across his face.

He treks back to his office; a windowless box in the corner of the building but he doesn't mind because Donna is there to greet him, perched on the edge of his desk wearing a mischievous grin.

"That's four now," she says, the smile still toying on her lips.

Harvey winks at her. "Was there ever any doubt?"

"I told you that can opener has powers."

"Think we should make it a ritual?"

She shrugs, swinging one long, elegant leg over the other. He actively does not stare. Donna springs up from his desk, bouncing the way she does when she gets overzealous about something. She quirks an eyebrow at him.

"So, are we celebrating or what?" she says, already making a reach for her purse and jacket.

"We can't go out and get hammered every time I wipe the floor with somebody in court."

They never really plan to get drunk, but she always manages to match him drink for drink and they both have competitive complexes.

Harvey helps her shrug her coat on, hands brushing down her shoulders.

"I'll buy the first round," she offers.

Harvey acquiesces, knowing that he will buy every round after because he's a gentleman dammit, and this woman really deserves a pay rise when he can afford to give her one.

The two of them end up at a hole in the wall that is slowly becoming their regular hangout after hours; Elephant & Wheelbarrow. They've been doing this more and more – spending time together outside of work. She's been his assistant for almost a year at the D.A's office, but they really only became friends a couple of months ago.

He respects the hell out of her, but he doesn't let people in easily, women in particular. Donna seemed to sense this though, because she barged through all of his carefully crafted walls and now he's kind of glad to have somebody on the same side of them.

It's busy for a Tuesday night, the extra bodies making the air inside the bar dank and humid. Harvey sheds his suit jacket and loosens his tie. Donna removes her coat and twirls her hair to the side. She regards his appearance closely.

"What?"

Donna hums thoughtfully. "You really need to ditch those skinny ties."

"What is wrong with them?" he asks, half incredulous, half offended.

"They make you look like a teenager," she replies simply. She reaches over to him, further loosening the offending tie before she unties it completely and hands it to him.

"I'm doing you a favour."

"You're making fun of me," he pouts as he hides the tie in his pocket.

She returns his pout with a lopsided grin. "Then be glad I'm doing it to your face."

Donna orders a scotch for him and a gin and tonic for herself. Harvey doesn't miss the way she flashes the bartender a flirty smile and the guy falters a little when he pours their drinks. Harvey can't help but smirk at her antics because he's seen guys at the D.A's office have a similar reaction to her.

"Cheers," he says, clinking their glasses together.

"Really that's the best you could come up with?"

He re-clinks his glass with hers. "Here's to making this streak a habit."

"Here's to your fabulous assistant."

"And her growing ego."

"I wouldn't be throwing stones, Harvey," she counters with the same smile she gave the bartender. Harvey finds that he likes it a whole lot more when she uses it on him.

What happens later Harvey chooses to blame on their excessive alcohol consumption and the high from winning in court this afternoon.

His hand is currently stroking the soft skin of her upper thigh and Donna is laughing in his ear, her fiery hair falling like a blanket and tickling his cheek.

"You have had way too much to drink," he tells her. But the words lose impact when he mumbles them into her hair. He's had more fingers worth of scotch than he has actual fingers. As for Donna, well she's never one to concede to defeat, and therefore has probably had more than him by this point.

"Say that again without slurring, Harvey."

It's last call but Harvey refrains from ordering them another drink. Donna stands on wobbly legs.

"Save my seat, I'm going to the bathroom."

A low laugh rumbles in his chest as he surveys the now empty room.

"No one is stealing your barstool, Donna."

She rolls her eyes at him, stumbling slightly on her insanely high heels. Harvey's hands reach out reflexively to catch her. His hands are clumsy as they fumble for her waist. She clutches at his elbows.

"Time to go?"

She nods. "I think so."

They make it outside without tangling their feet together. Unfortunately the blast of cool air does nothing to sober him, and he's suddenly acutely aware of the fact that Donna is folded against his side. Her body is warm and it allows him to ignore to cold wind that nips at his skin. It doesn't last though, because he realises they have both left their coats inside a recently locked bar.

"Dammit, I liked that coat."

"We'll come back for it. Better yet, I'll buy you a new one."

Her skin begins to cool and soon she's shivering under his hands. Harvey tightens his grip on her, the fabric of her skirt crinkling beneath his fingertips. Before he can reign his raging hormones in check, he's backing her up against the brick wall of the bar. Donna's shivering stops as she goes still.

"Harvey?"

He kisses her neck, tongue grazing against her throat. A soft sigh falls from her lips when he plants his mouth against her jaw. He kisses her there again, smirking against her skin when she exhales breathily.

Her nails rake through his hair and then she's tugging his head upwards and crushing her lips to his. Her tongue slides into his mouth with ease and his hands thread through her hair on instinct, bringing her closer. Her hands slip from his face and travel down to his hips where they ghost dangerously close to his belt buckle.

Two can play at that game.

He keeps one hand tangled in her locks, fusing their mouths together as the other sneaks beneath her blouse and under the cup of her bra. He palms her breast before flicking her nipple with his thumb. She moans into his mouth, then pulls back heaving, supported by the steady wall behind her.

It just occurs to him that they are literally out in the street and her hand is an inch away from his crouch and he's already gotten to second base. Some gentleman, he thinks, though for some reason the voice in his head sounds distinctly like his father's.

"Maybe we shouldn't –"

"I don't think –"

Apparently they are both thinking the same thing. Harvey's hands are in his pockets before Donna can even hide the flush of her cheeks. She looks up at him, her expression devoid of any lust or playfulness her saw a moment ago. He doesn't think he has ever seen her looking so serious before.

"Harvey, I really like working for you."

He looks at her, confused. "And I really like you working for me."

"Then I think it's best if this…" she gestures between them, "Doesn't happen again."

A beat of silence passes between them, the sounds of the city merely background noise to the tension that permeates the air surrounding them.

"Then I agree."

They walk to the end of the street and Harvey hails her a cab, making the firm decision to not ride with her because he might just try to kiss her again.

"Night, Harvey."

"Night, Donna."

He ends up kissing her on the cheek anyway.

Two.

(Don't Think Twice, It's All Right)

She isn't out of the shower for ten minutes when she hears a knock on her door. And she knows who it is, in fact she expected him sooner. It's barely eleven, but he's probably plastered by now. Donna wraps her thin, cotton robe around herself, trying to ignore the fact that she may as well be naked underneath.

She unlocks the door to her apartment, hair still damp and clinging to her neck as she swings it open. It disturbs her for a moment to see Harvey dressed in anything other than one of his trademark suits. His hair is unruly and she resists the urge to flatten it with the pads of her fingers.

"I know it's late…"

She rolls her eyes, because he doesn't sound even remotely apologetic. "Come in, Harvey."

He brushes past her, entering her home for only the second time since they've known one another. It's as equally strange to have him here as it was the first time.

He holds up an almost full bottle of Macallan. "Drink?" he asks out of courtesy, but he's already halfway to her kitchen. She sees no point in arguing so she breezes past him and extracts two glasses from the top cupboard.

He's already poured them both half a glass before she even has the chance to close the cupboard. He tosses his back just as she takes her first sip.

"How was it?" she tentatively asks.

Harvey grimaces, but it has nothing to do with the alcohol currently burning his tongue and sliding down his throat.

"How was the office without me?" he deflects.

"Surprisingly dull. I left at four."

He pours another drink for himself and tops up hers, though she's only halfway through.

"You could have come with me," he murmurs as he stares at the amber liquid swirling in his glass. Donna hoists herself up on the counter, positioning herself beside their glasses. Harvey rests a hip against the bench, his eyes flicking upwards, finally meeting hers when she answers.

"I wouldn't have felt right being there."

"It might have helped."

"He's your father, Harvey. I would have been intruding."

"You came to the funeral," he points out. "My own mother didn't even deign to make an appearance."

The distaste in his voice is evident. He swallows a mouthful of the Macallan, as if trying to wash it away. Harvey inspects her attire then, giving her a quick once over. His gaze almost burns through the flimsy material of her robe and Donna resists the impulse to tighten it around her frame.

"Why are you showering so late?"

Honestly, she had a date. Rather, she had one scheduled. She had gotten dressed, re-curled her hair and methodically decided on a pair of shoes only to cancel half an hour before. It felt wrong to be out on a date on the one year anniversary of Harvey's father's death. But to tell him that is to admit to something she isn't even sure she understands yet.

"No reason," she shrugs, finishing what is left of her glass.

"I am sorry I came over so late."

"It's all right. I was kind of expecting it."

"Have I become that predictable?"

"No. I just know that I'm your only friend," she jibes.

"I have plenty of friends," he defends half-heartedly. Donna merely laughs at him. "Louis is my friend."

Donna cocks her head to the side, trying to contain her bubbling laughter. "Now say that with a straight face."

Harvey smirks, pouring them both another shot. "Well when was the last time you hung out with anybody other than me?"

For a minute she actually has to wrack her brain. "I went out for drinks with Rachel last week."

He furrows his brow. "Rachel?"

"The pretty paralegal I spend half of my lunch breaks with," she says sardonically.

"See, you have no friends outside of the office."

Donna moves to speak before Harvey interrupts. "And no, your sister doesn't count."

"Oh but I know people," she smugly tells him.

"Believe me, I know the value of your network. You're power scares me sometimes."

"He said as he offered her a raise."

"Ha, ha."

He bites his lip to smother the chuckle that threatens to escape. She's mildly distracted by the quirk of his mouth, though he doesn't seem to notice. Donna's higher up than he is, and when Harvey ducks his head her traitorous hand snakes out to flatten his hair. He stares at her bemused when she snaps it back, belatedly registering her actions.

"You're such a mess when I'm not around," she covers.

"You have no idea," he says earnestly.

Donna has no clue how to react when he says things like this to her, when he doesn't answer in quips or sarcastic inflection. It throws her off when he lets his guard down. And he seems to do it more and more with her.

She clears her throat. "I'm not going anywhere." It's supposed to sound flippant but it leaves her lips sounding more like a promise.

"It felt weird not seeing you today," he says, his eyes looking anywhere but at her.

It's an odd thing to say, coming from him, and she thinks the scotch might have something to do with the confession. Still, it makes sense; they're in each other's orbit five days a week.

"It was strange for me too. You've hardly had a day off since I've known you."

"Will you come next time?" he says abruptly.

"Harvey, it isn't my place."

"I'm asking you though. He loved you, you know that."

She smiles, bright and wide because there's a definite spot in her heart reserved for Gordon Specter. Harvey's smile matches hers.

"Don't think I didn't know that he'd call the office just to talk to you," Harvey reminisces.

"Well I am lovable."

"He always did have a crush on you."

Donna laughs and refrains from mentioning all the times Gordon asked her how long he would have to wait before she would officially be his daughter in law.

"Can you blame him?" she jokes.

But the way Harvey's gaze traces the outline of her form is anything but funny. When he tears his eyes away Donna figures it's probably for the best. She isn't at all prepared for the moment he shifts and manoeuvres himself between her legs, his face now almost level with hers.

His hands fall to her open thighs, gliding upwards.

"You are…"

Her lips cut him off before he says something he can't take back and something she won't forget. His mouth is warm and tastes purely of scotch. The kiss is slow and languid, he takes his time, exploring her mouth and digging his fingers into the backs of her thighs with enough force to leave bruises.

It's an entirely different experience from the only other time they've ever crossed this line. They're older now (though apparently not wiser). There's more danger, because they are closer now and their lives are so much more entwined than they were when he was an ADA and she was just his secretary.

He strips her of her underwear and she's already embarrassingly wet and he bites hard on her lip when he realises this. Her hands go straight to his pants and hastily unzip them. She takes him into her hand and guides him straight inside her.

Her eyes jerk open to find him staring right at her, his lips parted and his breath coming out in shaky pants. It feels like almost a full minute before he finally moves his hips and pushes inside her again.

It's the complete opposite of how she had ever envisioned the two of them. He pumps in and out of her slowly, unhurried, not dissimilar to the way he kisses her.

When his thumb finds her clit, brushing the bundle of nerves in rapid circles, she cries out against his neck. She rakes her teeth against his pulse point, coming hard. She clenches involuntarily around Harvey, and he follows almost immediately after.

Donna slumps against his shoulder, silently and completely satiated. Harvey drops a kiss onto the swell of her breast, his thumb still between her thighs as he softens inside of her.

"Fuck, Donna."

When he says her name, voice hoarse and gravely, it all becomes painfully real. When she stiffens in his arms, he seems to realise it too.

Three.

(For Reasons Unknown)

She feels him hovering behind her chair before he even says anything.

"My office."

He doesn't even wait for a response. He snags her elbow mid-type and all but drags her away from her desk and into his office. When he closes the glass door behind them he finally releases her. He's wearing a stupid grin on her face and acting like a child trying to contain his excitement.

"Harvey, what is it?" She tries to sound exasperated but his glee is annoyingly contagious.

"We just got one step closer," he says dramatically.

It only takes her a second before she processes his words. "You made senior partner?" she asks, now poorly containing her own excitement.

"We did it."

He spares a brief glance outside his office before he's wrapping his arms around her waist and hoisting her up in the air and for a moment she can hardly believe that this is her Harvey. Her hands slide around his neck of their own accord as he embraces her tightly.

"Congratulations, Harvey."

A grin breaks out across his features and he kisses her, so quick on the corner of her mouth that she almost misses it herself. It's unmistakeable, yet Harvey doesn't even seem to notice that he's done it.

He's still smiling like an idiot when she walks back to his desk but her skin is warm and alert and she's suddenly lost the use of her voice.

Four.

(I Dare You To Move)

Donna is swishing her hips and swaying to the soft tunes that echo through his office. Jessica follows, her movements graceful yet guarded. He joins in too, slick moves (according only to him) and a goofy smirk on his face that he wears just to make Donna laugh.

He brings Jessica close, dipping her, pleased with the squeak of surprise that escapes from her mouth. Donna pours herself another glass of champagne – her third if he's counting. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes crinkle when she smiles at both him and Jessica.

He'd dip her too if she'd let him. He watches as she does a little half twirl that is somehow both adorable and completely sexy. She distracts him; her hips shimmying in her tight skirt and her blouse sliding across her breasts as she moves. He doesn't let his eyes linger for long, but it's a great enough stretch of time that he catches Jessica fixing him with a curious look.

She's stopped dancing now and she's heading for the door, her moment of carefree celebration seemingly over.

"Night you two. Try not to celebrate too hard, remember you'll be back here in the morning."

She says it lightly but there's an obvious warning that underpins her words. Harvey tries not to dwell on what she's implying. He drops down onto his couch, his body welcoming the brief moment relaxation. Donna begins to peruse his record collection before she finally settles on one. The sound of Miles Davis' Kind Of Blue fills the room.

She deposits herself on the couch beside him and toes of her heels, rubbing at the irritated skin at the back of her ankles. She swallows what's left of her champagne and nestles further into his couch.

They stay this way for a while – in comfortable silence. It's something he's never been able to do with any other woman and he wonders if that means anything. By the time Blue in Green begins to play, Donna is back on her feet and tugging him up with her.

"One slow dance won't kill you, Harvey."

He thinks it might but he clasps her hand anyway, anchoring his other hand to her hip while hers rests lightly on his shoulder.

Dancing with her is nothing like dancing with Jessica, he realises. With Donna, he needs to keep himself in check, make sure he holds her far enough away that either of them could escape if they needed to. In the end he just pulls her closer, relieved when she rests her cheek against his. He notices then that she's shorter than him, dancing bare foot.

"You're tiny," he whispers into her ear.

"Quiet, you're ruining it," she laughs.

He angles his head, giving him ample room to drop a kiss at her temple. His lips dawdle there, long enough that he notices a falter in her step. She pulls back to look at him and her gaze flickers down to his lips then back up to his eyes. Harvey's hand releases hers to trail a path along the slope of her neck. Then the record skips and he's never been more irritated that she scratched it.

She is out of his arms again. But this dance is hardly over, even though they're both tired of doing it.

Five.

(Empty Hands)

She's not even ten feet away from him, but the distance between them has never felt so great. There are things he's done in the past few months that he wishes he hadn't. Even worse are the things he said, because there are some things even he can't take back.

He's alone, almost completely for the first time since he has known her. It's always been Harvey and Donna; her loyalty has never wavered and he's never underestimated her value. Except, maybe he has, at least somewhere along the line. Because some time ago they stopped being friends and he just became her boss again and she became fine with being just his assistant.

He could blame it on the merger or the combination of Scottie and Huntley and other external factors but it really all ends and begins with them.

He is not in love with her. But she consumes him to such an alarming degree that he thinks maybe needing her this much equates to some twisted version of it.

The plain cold truth is that she doesn't need him. Not in the way he needs her. For a while Scottie fills that void. And he pretends. Pretends that what he feels for her is enough to sustain this pseudo relationship that they've been perpetuating. But Scottie is no fool and when he keeps her at arm's length for long enough, she begins to draw her own conclusions. She's horribly accurate when she infers that she isn't what he wants; that he wants only what he can't and knows he shouldn't have.

He recognises within seconds of observing the two of them together that Stephan Huntley is in love with Donna Paulsen. He almost laughs at the painful irony of this whole fucked up situation. Scottie leaves Huntley for him. Harvey leaves Scottie because of Donna. But apparently at some point Huntley becomes everything for Donna that Harvey never was for her.

It's encroaching on ten pm and he's kept her back on purpose. He is childish when he acts as if he doesn't know she has a date and an asshole when he creates enough work for her that she can't physically leave him.

She barrels into his office, her lips in a grim line and a scowl on her face. There's a stack of files in her hands – files that he assigned her because he's too stubborn hire a new associate. She drops them on his desk and they scatter in front of him.

"If that will be all…" she practically snarls.

It's not all. Not even close.

He charges past her, kicking the door to his office shut without any concern for the fragility of the glass. He tenderly reaches for her wrist, a sudden contrast to his previous treatment of the door.

Her pulse beats erratically under the press of his thumb.

"Harvey, don't do this."

"If not now, when?"

She shakes her head, because she has even less of an idea than he does. His lips brush hers, softer than he needs them to. He'd press her up against the walls of his office if he didn't already know she'd hate him for it after. She always hates him after.

She stuns him when she captures his fingers briefly, contemplating the two of them for real this time. Her lips leave his first. But before she can turn and leave, he kisses her once more, cradling her face in his palms because he's aware that soon he may not ever have the chance again.