Note: I had someone comment that the flashbacks were useless for this fic, so I thought I'd share my two cents of the last section of flashbacks. After they sleep together, and she follows him back to work, knowing that he would need her. They're the same. They just...return to what they were because they have to. They don't have to….anymore. And that's what I'll be exploring, that difference between how they responded to the events 5 years ago and how they respond to them now.

A~

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Chapter 8

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Forever and always

You've got my love to lean on darling.

All the days

Forever

Come with me

You've got my love to lean on darling.

All the days

You've got my love to lean on darling.

All the days

All of our days - 'That's What's Up' Cover by Lennon & Maisy

Donna hated being terrified.

Being terrified was for losers and twenty-somethings and novices to the world...

She...was none of those.

And yet,

Here she was. Getting inordinately irritated by the man next to her because of some irrational fear, and all in the last half hour of their three and half hour car ride back to the big smoke…

Ray had stayed out of it. Ever the smart man...

"What the hell's gotten into you?" Harvey barks at her, frowning.

"Nothing," She says quietly, looking out of the window.

She wonders if it's a thing….them and cars. They fought there. Were fighting back. So much for the possibility of limo sex at some point…

"Did a bug crawl up your ass today? You woke up fine..." He remarks, huffing.

"Harvey...just...leave it, okay? It's fine." She shrugs, her eyes flicking to him before she moves to look out the window once again, thankful for the quickly changing scenery.

It wasn't her to deny things to him. But then again, her life and her own private world had never been scrutinised before. It was always him. His life. His work. His job. Until being fired, they'd both forgotten that she was there as anything other than a grand courtesy to him.

He huffed, looking out of his side of the car.

He had...no idea, absolutely no idea what was going on with her.

They now had sat in silence for about half an hour, avoiding each other on their prospective sides of the car like they were in the middle of divorce proceedings.

They reach her apartment first. He looks to her, as she shuffle out the other side of the car and into oncoming traffic.

He grumbles under his breath, almost leaping out his side to meet her by the open trunk as she fishes out her suitcase, a marked tension on her face. When she reaches to shut the trunk his hand comes up, stopping her. She looks at him, frustrated and tired and lacking in a witty comment. She lets go, relinquishing in favour of allowing him to put down the boot, as she skirts past him, the wheels of her suitcase crunching as they move between street tarmac and the stone sidewalk.

He quickly walks to the front of the car, mumbling 'ten minutes' to Ray before catching the apartment main door in the wake of her opening it.

He just about remembers that she lives on the second floor, skipping up the stairs, knowing that she'd have taken the elevator with her suitcase. He's more tired than he would have expected, a slight pant as he lingers by the moving elevator on the second floor,

Until a thought catches, and he hears the elevator move up past him.

She lives on the third floor. Typical… he thinks to himself, jogging up the next flight of stairs.

"Donna," He calls, catching her just in time, the sound of the lock going in the middle of the corridor, and nearly misses her going in, his foot colliding with the door as his right hand wraps around it. "Donna?" He says roughly, the rising annoyance in his voice peeling.

She stares at him and it reminds him of before, of the mock trial and pushing her too far.

Only difference is he cares a little more and a little less this time.

"What are you-" Her outrage get's masked by his interrupting her.

"Donna? What the hells' going on?" He says, slowly but firmly opening the door until she lets go with a huff, walking into her apartment.

"I told you to just…let it go." She huffs.

"I can't let it go, when you're acting like an….this." He wants to say 'asshole'. It doesn't seem appropriate. "Tell me. What could I have possibly done wrong in the last three hours?" He asks with a huff, one hundred percent sure that he's done absolutely zilch to deserve her sudden cold shoulder.

She stares at him, a frown chiselled between her eyes, her hair whipping as she looks about the room. "Nothing. Okay?" She replies, exasperated, eyes wide as her arms flap at her sides.

"Right." He nods, sighing. "Then what is it? If it's not me, then it's you. So what's wrong with you?"

"I just...I need time, Harvey."

"No you don't. What is it?" He presses, his voice commanding, but so much softer than he'd even give himself credit for.

"Can't I just need time away to process all this?" She asks, softening against her own tenuous reply.

"If that's what you wanted, then you don't have to be a jerk about it, but I know that that's not it. So save me the time of trying to understand and just tell me."

They stare each other down for a moment, him waiting on a knife edge and her on a proverbial cliff.

"It's going to sound stupid." She says finally, cutting the silence in the room.

"Donna. You're usually a pretty rational person." He notes, moving towards her. "What's going on?"

She sighs then, chewing her lip as a frustrated jumble of thought seems to knot together. "The closer we got to the city, the more stupid the idea of us seems. There. I said it." She says, flicking her hair over one shoulder.

He sighs then. It's that thing. The thing she said before - that he really didn't care about - but that clearly had been occupying her mind.

It wasn't a fleeting thought for her. He relaxes, a small smile falling on his face as his head tilts, looking at her.

Clearly, they still had a lot to learn about each other.

"So this was the non-rational side you were mentioning?" His eyebrow quirks, a kind of adoration in his eyes as his head tilts to the side.

"It's not funny, Harvey." She narrows her eyes, trying at the frustration inside of her.

"It's a little funny." He admits, a small smile creeping into one side of his mouth.

"Harvey," She chides, rolling her eyes at his complete disarming of the situation and how he can win her so easily now.

"You know, it's refreshing to know that this is the one and only thing you can't figure your way out of." He says, walking towards her minutely, his eyes watching her body language as it stiffens just a touch.

"Haha. 'Donna doesn't know what to do'. I'm sure that's hilarious for you." She comments, making a face at him as she folds her arms. He's not in the least bit deterred, as continues to close the gap between them, that slight 'come hither' stare of his as he finally manages toe to toe with her.

"It's just going to take time, Donna. But getting pissed at me for no reason, isn't going to solve that. It's just going to make me pissed at you. And that doesn't help anybody."

"How rational of you." She remarks, her gaze measuring him. "Not the student anymore?" She quips dryly.

"I had a good teacher." He shrugs, gently releasing her grip off of her luggage; his hand traveling up the inside of her arm and around her waist, watching as her lips twitch slightly and that narrow look in her eyes narrows a little more as he smiles slightly wider. "Now. You irritable woman; I think you should come home with me. Not only because I'd really like to have sex with you again, but because I think that taking the rest of today and tomorrow to just find our feet would be good; save us from diving in the deep end of it all on Monday,"

"Harv-" She tries to interrupt him, but somehow for the first time he has the upper hand.

"Ahh! Donna? Then, we can take Sunday, take a day apart before starting back at work? Okay?" He confirms, his hands running down her arms, the action apparently soothing as she stills for a moment.

"I have Yoga on Saturday." She finally says, a slightly school-girlish look on her face.

"What? You can't go to yoga from mine on Saturday?" He offers, raising an eyebrow.

A long pause opens, his face challenging hers, waiting for her to form a sentence.

It's possibly the longest she's ever gone without having something profound or funny to say in his presence. He wonders rather seriously and idly just what their lack of relationship has really done to her. And how he out of the two of them may have gotten the better end of it all these years.

"Donna?" He asks, noting the long silence.

Her face animates for a second. "I need to do laundry…"

"Donna. Get what you need. In ten minutes, if you're not ready, I'm carrying you out of here." He says, a smirk of opposition in his features as he stares her down.

"Sit." She says finally, regaining some familiar composure.

He smiles, and does as is told.

She's particularly fast for someone whom he's had to placate for fifteen minutes. He texts Ray to let the guy know they'll be another ten before his eyes take to swimming about the lounge.

It's been a decade nearly, since he's even been here. And he's completely behind on her life, he sees. Pictures with people and friends he's never met. Family he's only met a handful of times - thankfully, as her family are a eventful nightmare, one he hopes to avoid for a while at last - amidst trinkets and books and vintage movie posters all gilt framed. It occurs to him, rather poetically, as it seldom does, that, despite their job roles - with him shining forefront and her in the back making things happen - they are quite the reverse as people. She is the sun. Gold and sharp and loud and shining, and he's the moon, dark and hard and streamlined and tempered.

They are two types of reverse with one another. And only now did it make sense why he and Scottie could never have truly worked it out.

Scottie was also the Moon. There was too much heaviness, too much undercutting and too much hard quality between them. It was a strange revelation, to have in your current, something's apartment about your ex.

"You okay there?" He hears her say, looking down at him with amused eyes.

"Sure, just...is that Louis?" He suddenly says, standing up to walk towards a collection of photos, one of which has Donna, somewhat younger being squeezed by a very happy and less balding Louis. With Braces.

"Uh. Yes. The Opera. Before Rachel, I was his only go-to."

"So that means… I'm not obligated to go with you? Right?"

She hits him with the flats she's holding, rolling her eyes at his completely male outburst. "With Rachel and Louis, that leaves you free at least ninety-two percent of the time. In fact, I'll wager that Louis will be mildly displeased if I start going with you more than I do with him."

"Mm. I might get Jealous?" He purrs the words pulling her to him.

"Wouldn't that be interesting?" She imagines, as his warms against her, his hands sliding around her back.

His face is deadpan in an instant. "You remember me getting jealous, right?" He finally admits, this time almost proud of the fact.

"Let's not beat the crap out of Louis," She offers, flapping her shoes onto his shoulder as his lips graze hers, his tongue just catching on the inside of her top lip.

"I'll try. It wouldn't be the first time I've been pulled off of him." He points out between kisses.

"Your hooliganism is not one of your better qualities, have I not told you that yet?" She offers.

"I've seen your looks afterwards." He rolls his eyes, unperturbed.

"I was only allowed to give a look before," She says, that seductive twinkle in her own eye, before walking away from him to grab her things. "Come on; Ray is waiting." She says, unzipping the bag on the floor to pop the flats into."

For a moment he's taken aback by her little nap-sack. "You got enough there?"

"Hey mister; I've been away from home for a week now. I haven't had a shower in my own place and I have yoga tomorrow. I need these things."

"You say it like we've been camping for a week!"

"What can I say, I like my home comforts…"

"Come on," He taps her hip walking past and issuing her into the hall.

They arrive at his half an hour later, slightly calmer and more the mood he had been hoping for. She still seems a little edgy for Donna still, and he's no less surprised by it, by the sudden insecure softness in her. He had gotten used to her being all hard quality around him, and even during the retreat she had maintained that certain confident swagger about her. But it was easy back there. And for her, he suspected there was a certain element of theatrical fantasy that their current thud to earth couldn't smooth over.

Currently he's watching her from the breakfast stools as she wanders around his apartment like she's in a museum.

"Having fun over there?" He asks, smirking against the stack of papers that have been delivered over their weeks absence.

"This apartment…" She breathes, looking to him matter of factly. "Is beautiful." She muses, deferring her look to the open balcony.

"It does." He shrugs, glancing at the one-ads.

"It 'does'?" She gawps, popping a hip. "You have a penthouse apartment on fifth, overlooking the park and 'it does' is that only thing that springs to mind?" She asks, folding her arms.

"What can I say. I've lived here a very long time." He says, turning the last page of the newspaper, before placing it on the counter, intention marking his face as he looks to her.

She straightens, her eyes widening with a humour as her chin lifts in expectation.

"Get over here." He commands, smirking.

"Get over here…?" She offers, giving him a look.

"Now?" He offers, staring blankly back at her. She laughs then, guttural and honest.

He loves that she gets him. Even when he's an asshole.

She saunters over to him, stretching her arms between the stools on either side of him, as she settles between his thighs. It's an oddly polarized position for them both, and yet the prospect of many options from this point on turns him on. His lips find hers as his hands slide to her ass.

"So… dinner?" He offers.

"Chinese?" She says, her hands creeping under his shirt.

"Perfect." He replies, humming when her cool fingertips slide over his abs.

"And sex in a bed that isn't completely devoid of form. But that maybe also have the remnants of eight percent of eligible women in Manhattan." She says making a face.

"I'm not even gonna touch that one." He frowns.

Hours later he's in the mood to go out. Despite having been out for a week now, he feels the need to be outside in the open air with this particular beautiful woman instead of holed up in his penthouse. They decide to go to a chinese and thai fusion restaurant called Nanking that's been getting about as good a review as the rest of the plays alongside it on broadway, and figuring what a thespian she is he deems it a pretty natural choice. Despite the amount of traffic and the thirty minute wait for a Friday night he's surprisingly at ease and more than a little turned on by Donna's very shiny and bespoke black dress.

"Whos' this by?" He remarks, sliding his hands around her rib cage.

"Gucci." She hums, her thick kohl rimmed eyes flashing green at him as she licks her lips.

He hums in appreciation, his hands settling around her back, "And the leather?" He enquires, his fingers exploring the silky texture.

"Python."

"So not treading the environmentalist route tonight then?" He jokes, his face settling next to hers as his eyes flick about the orange lit bar.

"We're at a asian restaurant where I believe there is frog, duck and god knows what else on the menu." She defends, shrugging. "Besides, I look hot in it." She pouts.

"You do look hot in it," He agrees his lips gravitating to her cheekbone. "A little too hot for a place filled with people.

When he kisses her just below the ear she wants to punch him for feeling it encourages. That shiver that shoots from both nipples, through her diaphragm and all the way over her stomach, whilst emitting a toothy smile to pull from ear to ear. It's even worse or better or stronger a feeling when his hands wrap around her waist and pull her flush against him, and god forbid his lips graze the end of her earlobe…

"Harvey," She breathes, a sigh escaping her as she coyly stirs the fruit in her Tom Collins, her eyes observing the other people at the bar staring right back at her. When he's finished he's smiling and she's trying to scowl through the violent blush appearing across her face.

"Enjoy that, did you?" He plays, pleased with himself.

"If people from work see us," She warns.

"Then it'll make it an easier transition on Monday," He reasons.

"You're not helping," Her face falls, glaring at him.

"Oh I think I'm tons of help." He purrs, his lips touching her temple as she feigns annoyance.

"You're tons of something," She measures, a reservedness taking over.

"Are you always going to play hard to get from now on?" He asks, a humour in his features.

"Was the first ten years not enough of an indication?" She smiles.

"Touche." He says, his hand falling just past her abdomen, grazing the black silk there.

She straightens, eyes flicking to his before she looks away, trying to be nonchalant. "Touch me like that again and you better have a finale planned." She mumbles to him.

He stares, wide eyed at her for a second before smirking. "I didn't know you were this easily affected by me," He says, hiding the arrogance of his smile in her hair.

"Drink it up. I'll get bored of you eventually." She sighs, feigning disinterest.

"Is that going to be in the next ten years, or?" He asks, his fingers tightening around her, something serious laced in the humor of his words.

She glances at him, notices that little pinker in his words. She feels a little guilty. And suddenly aware of how soft he is with her now.

"You're adorable when you're insecure." She remarks, letting her hands slide to his shirt, and the absence of a well dressed silk tie that she's so used to finding there.

"Don't patronise me," He says, pulling her to him with a deliberate roughness.

"Or what?" She challenges, her eyebrow quirking up with promise.

"Or I'll just…" The rest of his sentence falls into her hair as he whispers his plans into her ear, more than aware of the intention. Her eyes widen in response, her jaw quirking to the side at his brazen proposal as she becomes aware of the people around them and the blush creeping up her chest.

"Let me guess. You're not just a member of the mile high club but also the disabled bathroom club?" She says, the sarcasm dripping on her wry smile.

"They have a lot of room to maneuver." He smirks.

"And it's free to sign up?" She plays, pouting.

"I can get you in," His eyebrow quirks. "And let's not pretend that I'm the only experimental one here," He counters, giving her waist a squeeze as his eyes linger on a dusting of freckles that peek through her almost translucent skin.

She sighs deliberately. "You're right. I did have sex in Shea Stadium once."

"Really?"

"It was the 90's. He was boring. But adequately supplied with..." She muses.

"Charm?" He offers.

"If that's what you want to call it." She smirks; the devil about her.

"'Adequately' meaning?"

"It's not always about that, you know," She scoffs, taking the last sip of her drink.

He straightens unnaturally, his jaw twitching. "Right. I wouldn't know, because I don't have that problem." He smiles cockily.

"You know what? Nobody likes a bragger. And if you saw Mike's then you might not be so smug…" She says, relishing in the gossip.

"You've seen Mike's?" He asks, an immediate interest in his voice covering the slight irk of withheld information.

She turns to him, a warning look on her face. "One," She says, pointing finger at him. "I met him in the downstairs bathroom about nine times in the first 6 months he worked with us. And two...Rachel talks."

"So it's…?"

"Every single one has it's charm." She remarks, stifling a smug smile.

"Donna," He presses.

"It's enough. Why, you thinking of trying to bag that?"

"Do I look like the type of guy that would go for Mike?"

"Actually, you look like a Jeff, kind of guy."

"That is one attractive man." He says, the admittance of such painting his face.

She double takes his comment, humour painting her features. "You need a minute?"

He frowns immediately. "Oh, like you wouldn't…" He says, rolling his eyes as his hand plays on her back.

"Now I'll bet Jeff has a very-"

"Okay," He interrupts, giving her a look as he struggles to hold his ground. In seconds he's warm and fuzzy and it has nothing doing with the Macallan sitting on the counter, still swimming from where it had been placed on the bar untouched. "You look beautiful by the way." He remarks, changing the subject as it occurs to him.

"Thankyou," She softens, that sky smile he's been seeing so much lighting up the corners of her mouth. The need to kiss her flutters in his gut. He tests the waters, placing a kiss to her temple as she molds against him. He struggles to concentrate against the feeling of her, sheer and silky and cool to the touch; her hips deliberately leaning into his in a way that completely fills his head. He leans back, brushing her suddenly unruly hair out of her face, as she looks up at him, her eyes a little glazed under the cover of thick lashes.

She feels his lower lip brush between hers, the electricity between them making her tongue tingle, as his, wet and wanting glides against hers. She restrains the moan as it begins rising up the long column of her pale throat, the feeling of his hands in her hair and she is suddenly so lost in him that she struggles to understand how they got to this place.

He rests his forehead against hers, smiling his own smile.

"I'd really like you to take me home…right now." She breathes.

"I'd really like take you home, too," He agrees, his darkened eyes softening. "But in the interest of getting to know each other we should probably stay."

"We already know each other." She breathes.

"Donna," He smiles, amused by her impatience.

"Okay. We wait five minutes. If we don't get seated by then, I order takeout on the way?" She offers.

"Ten Minutes." He barters.

"You got yourself a deal, Reginald." She agrees.

"Say my middle name again and I'll grab your boob in front of all of these people…"

"You wouldn't," She challenges, doubt in her wide eyes before scrutinising just how serious he might possibly be.

He's deadly serious, his hand sliding up her ribcage, a mischievous look on his face.

"Harvey," She warns, yelping slightly in an attempt to grab his hand. "I will slap you in the face,"

"You wouldn't dare," He presses, enjoying the feeling of her hand over his as it slides precariously higher, the look he's giving her rises her ire and entertains him even more when she scrambles to remove his hand and he laughs at her out of character and feeble attempt to deter him.

He loves this, he realises. Absolutely loves it and doesn't know how he's lasted so long without having her like this. Being with her like this.

"Move in with me." He says in a flash, the words rolling off of his tongue with the kind of intention she's never seen.

Her face flashes to his, eyes wide and mouth unnaturally devoid of words.

He interrupts, a slight panic ensuing him. "I know it's too soon, and I know you want to take it slow but...you know how I feel about you."

"How do you...feel about me?" She asks, stepping disjointedly over the words.

His head immediately falls to the side, gawping slightly at her pushing him and despite the fact that he doesn't feel like he's in a corner for the first time in his life.

"Donna, come on. You know I'm in love with you. And that jerk part of me just wants to have you all to my-"

"You're...in love with me?" She asks, her face falling in between shock and warmth.

"What? You want it in sky writing?" His face falls, a typical Harvey laden deadpanned expression as he frowns at her.

Her face softens into another shy smile. "Funny. I just...didn't think you were...capable of feeling like that," She feigns nonchalance, her shoulder quirking in indifference despite the violent blush.

"Yeah...I figured that out...It was only gonna be you."

"You don't know that. You might have walked around the corner and found the woman of your dreams." She reasons. "It happens."

"Donna," He argues. "It's just you."

"We are really doing this aren't we?"

"You only just figured that out?" He smirks, his hands softening on her hips.

"I may or may not have been taking some of," She gestures between them, "This, with a tiny a pinch of salt."

"What, did you have an alternate?" He jokes, before the idea becomes a realistic one. "Donna?"

"No I just...I was being ultra realistic. Until now."

"You're going red-" He says, his look bordering on adoration. "er. And I'm not just talking about that fabulous hair of yours." He remarks, picking a strand up to flick the end.

"Just kiss, me you romantic fool," She orders, smiling finally.

"Yes Mam," He replies, kissing her softly.

He feels it then.

The eyes on him. Them.

The attention.

Donna seems to feel it too, as they disconnect, her hands sliding down his shoulders.

When he looks to his right, she's the last person on earth that he expects to see...

"Scottie," He says, his hands falling to his sides.

She stands there, exactly the same as the last time she'd seen him in his office, her hair dark and thick and symmetrical, her dainty form dressed up in a formal white dress. He feels a lump rise in his throat, Donna visibly stiffening next to him. He turns to Donna, ready to ask her wait. She nods before he can say a word, and he's immediately grateful, walking towards Dana. There's hurt in her eyes as she all but retreats in the direction of the bathroom. He follows immediately, hating himself a little for leaving Donna completely unattended in the process. God only knows what asshole she'll have to endure whilst he's gone...

He catches up with Scottie, managing to grab her arm before she can disappear into the women's bathroom.

"Scottie," He says tiredly. "It's been three months." He reasons, as if it's any consolation. The fact of the matter doesn't lessen the guilt he feels.

"I should have known it would happen...the moment I left." She says, the words razor sharp.

"Dana. It happened a week ago."

"You know what Harvey, it is none of my business who you get into bed with,"

He wants to tell her that it's more than that. That he can't believe that she's holding him with such a low disregard for someone he's known almost as long as her.

"Scottie. It's…it's more than that."

He watches her visibly deaden at his words, the need to skip the gap of silence as he steps towards her.

"I wanted to tell you. Somewhere better than here. That...I…"

"Harvey," She shakes her head, her eyes glazing against her stereotypical need to hold in any emotion from him.

He can see in her eyes, the pleading for him to stop.

"I just...I don't want to play if off, and then you find out the truth later. I don't want to hurt you anymore."

She smiles, bitter and irritated for a second. He watches the gambit of emotions run over her face before she straightens, as if she's come to some pressured resolution in three easy steps.

She shrugs, her chin lifting. "She always did know how to handle you."

"Yeah." He nods, his mouth drawing out into a line. "Someone's gotta keep me in line."

She smiles then, a real smile, if not a little sad. He watches patiently as she draws a breath. "I'm going to miss the possibility of spontaneous sex with you."

"Me too." He smirks, relief washing over him. "Are we…?" He gestures, feeling slightly inappropriate asking but needing in his heart of hearts to know.

"We will be." She nods, curtly.

"Good." He nods back. "Listen, I better…" He gestures back to the restaurant.

"Yeah." She nods, folding her arms.

Before he can turn around his name has fallen on her lips. "Harvey?" He turns, looking to her.

"Yeah?"

"Don't screw it up with her." She says, a warning glare with just a hint of warmth.

He knows that he won't. She just means too much. "I'll try not to." At least not enough to ruin them. "Bye Dana." He smiles, a pinker in his gut at the finality of it all.

"See you in the trenches?"

"I look forward to it. At least this way you'll have to fight fair this time."

"Oh Harvey...sex isn't the only way to play dirty," She smirks, turning on her heel and into the women's restroom.

He hopes she's okay and it's just being strong for him. Trouble is that he couldn't do anything to fix it if he tried...such is a breakup.

When he gets back, Donna has indeed been accosted. He smiles, watching as a tall dark and thirty something tries to win her over whilst having no idea what he's gotten himself in for. He can see Donna, narrow gazed and demure, putting up an half-fight, until her eyes notice him, and she smiles, catching the guys attention as he follows Donna's gaze, before unceremoniously picking up his drink and leaving his significant other to lean against the bar, a playing smile as he reaches her.

"That was easy." He remarks cockily, nodding in the direction of the young man who's now animatedly telling a story to his rabble of friends along the otherside of the bar, no doubt down playing his failure to land his intended victim.

"Yeah, I thought he was going to put up a little more fight than that," She snorts, her hands sliding between his jacket and shirt. Her face grows serious for a moment. "How was it?"

"Okay," He nods. "I think we should go though...you know?"

"Yeah. I think it's best." She nods, a sad smile on her face.

"I have an idea though…" He offers, watching as her face collects the information in a way he'll never truly understand.

"I know exactly what you're thinking and that is a fabulous idea." She smiles warmly, allowing him to escort her out of the restaurant.

A twenty minute and forty dollar cab ride later and they're sat in exactly the same place they had done so long ago, neon lit and oddly packed for such a late hour. He watches as she scours the menu, completely overdressed for a diner. He laughs to himself, examining her.

Her eyes catch at his intense stare.

"Gucci is a little much for here." He comments.

"I look fabulous, regardless." She says, referring back to the menu.

"How much did that cost?"

"You should know by now Harvey, it's rude to ask a lady how much she spends on clothes, bags, shoes or anything to do with her appearance."

"I already know how much you spend on bags." He points out, a well played arrogance on his face.

"But not shoes." She points out.

"I could guess?"

"Why so interested all of a sudden?"

"It's just good to know...for the future."

"The future, huh?" She plays, finally warming to his strange little outbursts as they come in spades.

"I may want to buy you a dress one day." He shrugs, washing off her interest.

"You know...I think you're the only guy in world who enjoys taking a woman shopping."

"Well...not just any woman. And you're remarkably easy to chaperone despite your temperament."

"Well, when your Boss buys you a four hundred dollar bag on a whim, you make a quick decision." She replies shrewdly.

"Is that all I am to you? Your meal ticket?" He challenges, quirking an eyebrow at her.

"Of course not. You're also my sex toy." She gives him a look, screwing a napkin up just throw it at him.

"Hey!" He says, "You have no table manners..." He shakes his head.

He watches as something lights up the periphery of her mind, making her sit a little straighter and almost out of her seat.

"What?" He asks, watching her try to land the attention of one of the busy waitresses. A moment passes before a little brunette finally saunters over to them both.

"Good evening guys, I'm Sam. Can I take your order?"

"Actually...first. do you have a booth free?" Donna asks.

"Uh," The girl looks around her, before spotting one in the back. "Yes we do. Do you guys want to move?"

"Yes please." Donna smiles.

"Sure. Come with me." The girl shrugs, walking over to the other booth to arrange it from a four person to a two.

"Donna?" Harvey frowns, but follows her to the other table, watching as she slides into the booth. He starts to make his way around the other side before his name catches on her lips, somewhat more seductive than before. She points a finger, beckoning him to sit next to her. He smirks, sliding into booth on her side with a look of confusion middled with interest and all the while mildly turned on by the options flitted through his head at her bold gesture.

"What's going on?" He frowns briefly.

"That seat. That's the old us. The us, where you sat there, a day after we slept together and told me that you wanted me to work with you."

His face falls in understanding. "Donna," He starts, before she interrupts him. "I,"

"Harvey it's not your fault." She interrupts. "I never had the guts to tell you that I would have rather dated you and instead agreed on my terms. But that over there? Was the old us. Boundaries, and friendship, and being a kickass team. Over here," She gestures to the table they're sat at "If it's really what you want...is the new us. Where we get to sit on the same side and eat fries together and I get to touch you and not think that there's anything wrong with that, regardless of if we work together or not."

"SO, you're finally coming around to the idea?" His face falls into a smile. "Took you long enough," He remarks, his face dropping when she bats him on the chest to concentrate.

"If this doesn't work...then we still have that, over there." She says, gesturing to their old table.

"Okay. And if we have a work problem. We sit over there,"

"And for everything else we sit over here. Exactly." She smiles.

"You're a strange and beautiful woman."

"Oh you've not seen anything yet," She remarks, trying not to dent at his compliment. "Remember that I warned you." She says, eyes wide.

"I think I'll be able to deal with it." He says.

"So we gonna make out or what? There's no point in having a booth if we don't at least make the most of it."

"Always one for putting on a show, huh?" He says as his fingers lace into her hair.

When Donna shuts her front door behind her, her entire apartment feels different.

Alien.

Past.

She drops her bag onto the couch, opening the drapes in every room, airing the place with open windows and the strong smell coming from the coffee machine.

It only occurs to her, twenty minutes in… just two things.

The first, is that she misses him dearly...it that were even possible after leaving his condo an hour and a half ago,

And the second,

Is that the coffee, the light, the sound of the city, are a welcome reminder of his absence here.

She plans to change that, she thinks, the resolution of such a thing washing over her in encompassing waves.

They are something else now.

Something that not even she can deny anymore.

Just a filler. I love writing these two idiots in their day to day. Deciding where to take this atm. A -