A/N: Fair warning, this is full of angst. See you at the end with more notes.

Paula is walking straight towards him, and more importantly, right past Donna who's sitting in her office.

Harvey's heart thunders when he sees Paula moving straight toward him, and more importantly right past Donna. The same Donna currently sitting in her office where their kiss happened the night before.

Damage control is instant. Long, hurried strides reach Paula, a hand to her back providing coaxing pressure for them to walk the opposite way.

"You're here. We should get lunch." He attempts to keep his tone casual even though it's rushed.

She slows, not having moved more than a door down. He continues walking, hoping she'll follow.

She doesn't. She's planted with reserved discomfort on her face. "What's going on, Harvey?"

He attempts to even his face, chancing a glance to Donna's view just feet away. "I was just on the way out to lunch. I figured if you're here you'd want to join me."

"I do," she answers with measure. "But usually one starts with a request. Why the rush, Harvey?"

His palms go up, flapping slightly. "Because I'm goddamned hungry." He scoffs then, a palpitating tremble in his chest. He had to get her out of there, away from Donna and away from the scene of their indiscretion.

Paula looks stricken, wary of his outburst.

People are staring, and he worries there eye-lines will become arrows pointing Donna to exactly what he's attempting to avoid.

"Maybe I should be on my way. Call me when you're less busy."

Shit. She's leaving at least, but the last thing he wants is to hurt her more than he already has to.

He follows, waiting until he's well out of earshot to call after her.

"I'm sorry. It's just been a... Rough day." He internally cringes at the weakness of his words.

"I know you've been under a lot of stress. And I try to be as understanding as I can be. But I'm beginning to think there's a reason you don't want me here."

He scrubs his face. "Can we just talk about it somewhere else?"

Paula nods, keen reservation on her face.

As they travel down the elevator at opposite ends apart to meet Ray, he tells himself this is to protect Paula. Her running into Donna. A confrontation would make Paula uncomfortable, especially after what's happened.

The reasons fit in his head about his neatly as rocks, their sharp edges a reminder his entire reality is out of place.

The truth is it's not about Paula. He's a shitty boyfriend for it, but he realizes he hadn't wanted Donna to see her. His gripping fear is about not wanting to hurt Donna, not wanting to make her think Paula showing up with some kind of decision on his part. That he either chose Paula and wants to spare himself the awkward conversation, or worse yet he's forcing her to glimpse them together in a vindictive move.

That's when the truth lands like a right hook to his jaw.

Being with Paula feels like a betrayal to Donna. One he can't keep living with.

He knows then. He has to tell Paula. Today.

He's going into this with poor planning, her mood already in the place where she sums up his bullshit and hands him a plate of it with a fork. She's perching at the opposite side of the town car, watching the city race by. He wonders if she has an inclination it's slipping away, or if he's confusing her abilities for his favorite redhead. He wonders what else he's confused between them in the effort to make Paula fit.

He has Ray take them to his place. He needs privacy for what he's about to say. She follows inside, then rids herself of her keys, coat, and handbag in a way that he imagines is like hydrating and shedding robes before a ring match.

"You said you were starving and you bring me here."

He frowns at the statement but ignores the bait that would lead further into a fight. "Paula, something's happened."

Her eyes widen as if it's a split second before an oncoming crash. He wonders if she somehow knows. Her expression settles. "At work?"

"Yes." Work's the starting point.

"Is something wrong with the firm?"

He can leave it here. Answer yes because it's actually honest because of what's going on with Jessica. Spare her the type of truth he swore he'd never hurt someone with.

Only him and Donna would know, and possibly Rachel which led to Mike. The chance of any of them letting it slip is unlikely. Even though Donna has become unsettlingly unpredictable by path of her lips. He could just let Paula fade away gently.

Guilt won't let that happen. Donna had lit fire to a truth he couldn't let go of. "No." He pauses. "With Donna."

Alarm returns. "Did you sleep with her?"

"No," he answers firmly. "She kissed me." A kiss. It sounds so simple yet his head is spinning like a centrifuge.

Her lips press together. "I can't say I'm surprised. We knew her feelings and she seemed to have an unhealthy attachment—"

"Paula," he stops her.

Her arms are crossed he needs to offer a bigger piece of the truth. "I kissed her back."

She swallows, frowning. "I know you care for her. And with your previous confusion in therapy..."

She's blind to his attempts at an easy let-down. He inches closer, careful to inflict the least amount of damage. "I didn't want to stop."

The admission strikes, but the expression of anger is absent, her hardness too light. "Well, you've been honest with me. That's an important step in recovering from something like this. Donna has been tempting you and playing on your emotions."

"Paula." Her name repeats like another warning. "Leave Donna out of this. Be angry with me."

Something flashes in her expression. Blankness, maybe without the excuses built up behind it.

Her face turns down, before her chin raises high again with a crease he'd been waiting for. She clears her throat, a break trapped in it. "Do you want to end this? Are you in love with her?"

He hasn't spoken yet, thoughts spinning in his head like an out-of-control merry-go-round ready to throw him off. He hasn't dare let the words in but ironically Paula probably sees the truth anyway. "I don't know what I am. I can't deny there's something more between us."

"We'll then you have a decision to make Harvey. Because she just kissed you knowing about me being in your life. It's not fair to me for you to continue your relationship in the same capacity."

"You want me to fire her? She's my COO Paula."

"Is that what it would take to separate the two of you?"

He meets her with a hard glare. "She's been by my side for thirteen years."

She looks away, wiping eccentrically at her forehead.

"She's my best friend," he says even though the label seems not enough.

"Which is why you should understand why I'm feeling this way. Are you ending this?"

"I—"

"You need to give me something, Harvey."

"I don't know, okay? But I'm not ending my working relationship with her." He swallows. He's tired. Of fighting. Avoiding. Denying. "I'm just really confused right now."

She seals her lips together like she can superglue them at will but he sure there's much held back. She reaches for her belongings and begins the descent out of his life.

He thinks he should stop her. Try and offer her comfort. He cares for her, maybe a lot. He doesn't want to add her to the tally of women he's crumbled because it worsens the odds he could ever leave the most important one unscathed.

As her heels click away he realizes he can't. His need for her has dissolved, eradicated with a stolen kiss he can't forget.

Donna is furious Harvey can't be bothered to attend the meeting with Morrell PR. She's sure it's a targeted message to flip-off her idea and make her second guess herself. It's a well-worn tactic he's used on many others before her.

Louis had a pre-scheduled deposition, so the proposal ends up being a one-on-one affair. Joseph Morrell is confident, without the threatening intensity of someone like Harvey. He lays out a thorough and multilayered plan with impressive presentation, all with an easy conversation she finds comfortable to slip into.

He's ridiculously attractive. Mid 30s, tall and slender, but fit. With a head full of dark hair and facial scruff that made her stomach free-fall. His suit is a touch Italian and skin-like with chalk stripes. His Tartan motif tie tells her the man would happily explore outside the usual.

He's sending his usual signals he'd be happy to intermingle any more intimate way. He's telling her about their mutual friend and a night at a theater event. He's funny and she enjoys the weightless conversation. She's interested but can't with everything going on from the previous night.

"Do you have all my contact points?" He leans at a bit closer, giving her a heady whiff of his cologne- fresh and with a hint of spice.

Her eyes narrow at his attempts. "Ready if I need them," she dares. Enough to match his confidence, but not give him an open ticket.

"We should get a dinner when my contract expires with Paulson-Spector-Litt. To celebrate our success?" His hand brushes her arm, resting there.

"It's Spector-Litt," she corrects.

"Not to me."

She bites her lip. "I'll think about it." She may need the distraction in the coming weeks.

The glass panels rattle and she startles, looking to the door.

Harvey is the cause, wearing a firm glare strong enough to slice the conference room in half. He strides into the room with so much ownership he may as well have pissed all over the furniture, stopping right into their personal space.

"Prosperous meeting?" The question is accusing, with a quick glance down to where Joseph's hand had rested.

"It was, but it ended. We were just catching up, since you decided to miss it." Her words hold a warning.

Harvey spine is rod straight. "Great. Why don't you leave the notes with my secretary," he directs with hint toward the other man.

She grits her teeth at his emphasis, unsettled at not being able to read the full instructions to the game he's playing.

Joseph stills, glancing between the two of them to get indication of whatever landmine had entered the room.

"Harvey Specter?" When Harvey responds with the cock of his head and tightened jaw, Joseph clears his throat. "I'm Joseph Morrell. My company looks forward to assisting you." He holds out a hand, which Harvey doesn't acknowledge.

Donna wants to kill him. Or at the very least pick up the glass paperweight globe in the center of the conference table and aim for his head.

"Great Jonathan-"

"It's Joseph."

"Right. I'll look over your notes and myself or Mr. Litt will be in touch."

Joseph lands a dagger loaded glare of his own before shifting his attention to Donna. "Nice catching up, Donna. I'll be in touch." He picks up his satchel and a stack of papers and exits, leaving them alone.

Harvey swings his head from the disappearing form of Joseph, then back to her. Pressured accusation has mounted on his face. He wants to throw whatever is building in him to her, expecting her to somehow wear it so it leaves the revolving list of emotions he's too prideful (read:chickenshit) to examine.

His eyes darkened further. "Are you kidding me with that bullshit?"

"You mean working with a PR company to help our firm bullshit?"

"That's not what I walked in on. And after last night-"

"Last night you implied was a mistake. So who the fuck cares what you walked in? Who I flirt with, who I date, or who I sleep with is none of your concern."

"It is when whoever it is affects the firm."

"And how many women have you fucked that were somehow involved with the firm?" She can tell she's thrown him, because they both know she could recite a page-long list of half the names without effort.

He angles his head, his jaw tensed. "And how many of those did you give me input on?"

"That's when I was your secretary, which I'm not anymore. I'm not your girlfriend, your therapist, your lover, your anything."

"Thirteen fucking years, Donna. And all of a sudden we're nothing? I'm not even your friend?"

"You've been ignoring me since you got your new office," she points out, forcing herself to remain even even with the building rattle of her nerves.

"Because I've been freaking out I lost you again." His palms flash up.

She scoffs, shaking her head. "It's because you didn't want my opinion about you fucking your therapist. Who by the way you missed this meeting with to have a nooner. Don't think I didn't see you leave with her." She points down the hall. "So don't you dare lecture me as the one affecting the firm with my love life."

"I didn't," he states simply.

"Bullshit. That's exactly what you are doing."

"I mean have an anything with her. We were arguing."

"Why? Disagree on whose couch to do it on?"

He gives her a glare. "I told her the truth about what happened."

She feels a breath stick in her throat, and then she quickly lets it free because she's firmly planting herself in the land of no more regrets. "No."

His brows crease. "What?"

"If you just told her I kissed you it's the coward's way to honesty, and leaves out the same things you weren't willing to admit last night."

"You're right. Which is why I said truth."

"Then enlighten me. Because Dammit Harvey if anyone deserves that it's me."

His body straightens, his lips parting and then closing again. He so tense it's as if he's trying to hold up a collapsing building on his own shoulders.

Typical. She goes around him, feeling every millisecond they are together sucking more of her patience dry.

His hand catches just above her elbow, stopping her firmly but without harshness. Their eyes lock, the parallel positioning of their bodies stirring more inside her than it should.

"Wait." The word is a question but a command all rolled into one syllable.

Her shoulders drop in defeat. Emotion spreads in the shine of his eyes, the shift of his jaw that makes her throat ache.

She hates him. And even more so herself. The fine cracks form so easily in her resolve. The kind that leave her vulnerable to a Harvey-themed avalanche.

He takes a sidestep, putting himself in front of her so close their bodies could touch with the tiniest shift. His fingers loosen on her arm, then the backs of them trace the slightest path to her shoulder.

A barely audible gasp leaves her lips. They're closer now. Too close.

His eyes close and his chin drops. "I was in shock last night. I'm angry and confused. Like you tilted my entire ship."

"I had rock something or I might never know."

"Now I'm drowning. You didn't care what this could do to me as long as it righted you."

She disengages her spell, looking away. "Nothing about this is right for me."

He ducks his head, eyes tracing her face. "Why couldn't you have just told me?"

"You know the answer to that."

He sighs, his face shifting forward. His tongue slips over his lips and they part.

She's holds a breath.

"Mr. Specter?"

Irma, his new secretary's voice makes him rigid on the spot. He steps back, spinning away to face the older woman. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry to interrupt." She approaches. Paula Agard stopped by and left these for you." She places a key with a too familiar leather fob in his hand. "She said I should get them to you as soon as I could." She hands him a file and rattles on about a case which Donna ignores because the heat of her coursing blood lights fire to her senses.

Then his secretary is gone. He's rubbing his brow as Donna circles to confront him.

"You couldn't be bothered to replace the keyring?"

"Don't make this into more than it is."

Her eyes land on the object, the final sign that represents how easy it'd been for him to replace her. She has nothing left for him. She starts to walk away.

"Just like that? You blow up my life and relationship, forcing me into my worst fears, and you're walking away because of the keychain?"

She spins around just long enough to respond. "Maybe you are right. Maybe this was an awful mistake." She uses his answer from the night before to shut down further paths that he'd shown time and again led to nowhere.

"Donna."

She keeps walking, emotions fueling her flee since without it the energy would have no place to go but out. She's getting to the elevator, not even knowing her destination except for away from him and the place that is a collected signature of memories she'd never escape from within the walls. But then he's in front of her again. Like a game of Whack-a-mole she never intended to start.

His chest is rising and falling. She's unsure whether it's from anger or catching up with her. She wills the coiling emotion gearing up to implode to hold off long enough for the repeated pressing of the elevator button to give her escape.

His hard eyes have locked her in, silently with the joint awareness they're openly surrounded by colleagues.

The elevator dings as the doors part. Before she can protest he takes her by the hand and leads them into the door for the stairwell. The door clicks shut leaving them alone in a cool echo chamber.

His eyes have taken on a glassy edge, his temples throbbing as if his veins want to break free as much as she does.

She sighs. "I thought I made it obvious I was through talking."

"And I thought I made it obvious I didn't think it was fair."

"Of course you wouldn't. It doesn't benefit you."

"Oh, so now I'm selfish?"

An erratic rage fills her a desperate tensing of a band that's been wound so tightly for so long its hold snapped.

Her palms fling out at her sides. "Yes! How that's a goddamn surprise you I have no idea."

"Donna —"

"No! No. You don't get to Donna me. You're blaming me for your world going under?"

"You kissed me," he states plainly.

She stalks closer, jamming a finger toward him. "You hired me, then pushed for me to sleep with you, then work for you again. You demanded my everything, affecting every area of my life for the last thirteen years.

His Adam's apple bob's.

"You reward me with grandiose moments, that are just beyond the line of appropriate, and then you shut down any reaction I have from them."

Something wild and terrifying makes her not familiar with the road she's barreling down. Her emotions are an untamed destination, and she only travels by carefully researched itinerary. She swallows, trying to steady the feeling.

"You said you loved me, then walked away. We spent months with this building feeling that..."

He straightens. "What?" His voice is barely above a whisper.

The clarity suddenly hits her, settling in like a familiar friend. She let herself slip inside a fantasy. Despite telling herself repeatedly to read nothing into any of it, that it meant nothing, especially to her. She'd been placating her own heart while telling herself she was over it all.

And now she'd dragged him into the unthinkable delusion. When she'd been outwardly assuring herself that hadn't been worth the risk.

They'd never work. Maybe some part of both of them was in love. She's attractive, even if he liked to ignore that fact. And one didn't spend that many years alongside someone like Harvey and not even contemplate the possibility especially when they'd taken the rendezvous successfully once before. But the reality remained in front of them.

"We've had so many opportunities we never took. That should have been sign enough."

A crease forms in his brow, with a nearly imperceptible shaking of his head.

She looks away, feeling the weight of tallied years suddenly heavier than they've ever been before. "The answer was always there. I knew that and somehow I let myself forget. For that I'm sorry." A pounding has begun assaulting the back of her head. A warning this has gone on to painful degrees. "We were never meant for something more. Look how fast you were able to turn to Paula Aguard."

He shifts to protest, his entire being shaken like she'd seen it many times before.

"I'm going to need some space."

"Donna, please. You don't —"

"This was never healthy for either of us. Just walk away."

A stubbornness fills his expression. Sadness, regret, fear, anger, fight. The slight tremble of his jaw almost makes her try and take it all back.

Then he's gone, leaving her cold and hollow in the concrete landing of a stairwell.

A/N: First off, I'm SO sorry it's taking me so long to update my stories. As some of you know, my younger sister died a couple of months ago. I intend to finish(and hopefully write more!) but bear with me as it may take me awhile to get to it.

Secondly, I'm sorry for leaving it with so much angst. Or maybe I'm not if you love angst like me. I sat on this chapter for awhile, and am still fretting it's not "right". Even so, I hope you enjoy and thank you SO much for the amazing reviews. I totally ended up getting back to writing Darvey this weekend thanks to a couple of you messaging me.

I own nothing and all that jazz.