Harvey is the most free she's ever seen him on the dance floor. He's liquid and lively, without airs or propriety. Something must've freed inside him, like a rope's loop suddenly come undone and he's let go of trying to keep it tied.

Several possibilities could be the culprit for the shift. Losing the firm's name once again, this time to Zane, or something that happened while working with Jessica she'd yet to sniff out. Or maybe it was the wedding itself, coupled with the heartbreaking news of their best friends' departure, which she's sure Mike has now told him about. She plans to process that news herself with copious tears when she's alone, along with a similar amount of wine.

Then the last handful of weeks hit her again, and she wonders if what's happening is a combination of all the stress from everything they've faced the last few months in the firm and personally.

They'd all grown weary, and maybe now he just needs to let loose. She just never expected it to be with her. Touching her. Moving his body with her. Losing the evening with her.

The feeling is as if he's grabbed her by the hand and wrapped her tight, jumping out of a plane. They're falling and she's trusting he's checked their parachute pack, which is unsettling since preparation is usually her domain. Somehow she knows wherever this freefall is leading they'll land safe. Because she always jumps with him. Without thought or care, but always faith.

They don't touch the fear in those hours of flying on their feet. They glide. They immerse. They trust because they're together.

"You know?" he asks cryptically at one point, his breathing near her ear being nearly the only thing she can focus on.

"Yeah."

That's all they touch on the subject, letting their pent up physical touch speak the rest.

And then the night begins to end, and the music stops. She's left with her heart in the air and her feet unsteady on the ground due to champagne and intimate steps. The motion between them feels easy and reassured, an exhilaration kind of like the time they don't talk about. As long as they kept moving and touching, the inevitable reality change didn't have to come.

The moment their dancing ends isn't the hardest of the night. The pair of colleagues that are yet another thing that connect her with Harvey- their supports, their right hands, the only two that come close to understanding the depths of what her and Harvey hide from everyone else, will be gone. The resection that comes with Rachel and Mike's resignations makes their firm feel half as whole, even though two is on paper a small percentage.

The couple approach them, both emotionally breathless. Mike is beaming and Rachel is all soft smile and barely unspilled tears.

Harvey lets go of her hand, reminding her he used to not hold it.

They trade pleasantries about the wedding, then physical ones as well. Harvey with Rachel and her with Mike. The most important is saved for last.

Her female BFF is alone with her now, close enough she could beg her not to go. The younger woman had answers to love figured out that Donna never might. She needs her.

Rachel glances to their right at the grinning VIP-to-them men, a sheepish smile with an arched brow. "So, dancing, huh?"

Donna pulls in a reluctant breath. "Like I could be a wallflower."

"Mike and I have never seen him like that."

"Wedding of his best friend," she offers as an easy explanation, not sure if it fits even to herself.

"No, Donna. Not only that."

Donna tilts her head, meeting her friend's perceptive eyes. Her own solid, yet gentle. "He's happy for you both, Rach."

"He's happy with you. Even with the news of us leaving."

Donna shakes her head, chancing a glance to the man responsible for the discussion before readying her protest.

Rachel grabs her hand and stops her with a squeeze. "You can't wait forever." There's more than a gentle push to her words this time. This is a final desperate plea.

"You're just caught up in the romance of your night with Mike. Forget about me and Harvey and focus on the impending wedding night." Donna's mouth bends in a smirk and brow raise, a deflective mask as the shield.

Rachel grins, a slight blush in her cheeks. "Then the best wedding gift you could leave us with is knowing our best friends aren't staying alone out of fear. You're going to need each other."

Using them leaving is a low blow, but effective. "Don't worry about us, we'll do what we always do."

"Exactly my fear." There's a scold in Rachel's voice that's surprising. "I'm not trying to tell you how to live, but I love you, Donna. And I'm worried if you don't stop hiding from your feelings, you'll never get what I know you both want."

How can Rachel know, when she isn't even sure herself? Donna needs to break the emotion stinging her, pulling her under like a jellyfish with a vendetta. "If you're trying to Donna me, you've done a fair job, but you have more training before I can say you've mastered it. When did you get so bold?"

Rachel chokes back a cross between a laugh and a sob. "You taught me well." Something passes with Rachel's words, an admittance for what they'd been for each other. The conversation rests on the emotion.

Donna eventually adds, "Of course you're not going to be around, so my in person teachings will have to be virtual."

Mutual shaky breaths and swelling emotions return, taking Donna to a different feeling of uncertain footing.

"I don't know how I'll live without you all." Rachel wraps arms around Donna's shoulders for yet another time that day. "You could probably talk me out of this."

Rachel is lying, but even if she isn't, and even if Donna wants nothing more than to use the perfect arguments for staying, their hearts are drawn to a new future, and Donna never stands in the way of someone finding it. "Probably. But instead I'm going to tell you there are Skype video calls, non-stop flights, and plenty of law firm salaries for tickets."

Rachel's chest rises and falls.

"You and Mike will make this okay for each other," Donna says.

They exchange nods, emotions spilling because there aren't any words that will make the journey any closer, or the loss any less profound.

"So. Dancing, huh?" Mike teases as he leans over the bar, downing a glass of water.

"Is where people move their feet in time to music. Something I saw you struggling with."

Mike doesn't flinch at the jab, obviously heading somewhere Harvey knows he doesn't want him to go.

"You still not ready?" Mike presses.

Why the hell does it always come back to her? "Do you get a kickback if we book the wedding today?"

Mike's mouth bends in a frown. "I've never seen you like that before."

"Drunk?"

"Enjoying yourself. Laughing. Trying those goofy moves you're calling dancing."

Harvey shoots him an annoyed glare, because his counter arguments suddenly feel tired and weak.

"I've also never seen you back down from something you wanted."

Harvey shifts his eyes to Rachel and Donna. Her tears hitting somewhere raw that's numb unless she's involved.

"Except her," Mike finishes.

Harvey empties a final glass of champagne. "You know it rains all the time in Seattle, right? You won't be able to ride your bike."

Mike shrugs. "It's the Pacific Northwest. They're energy conscious. Everyone's going to be riding bikes."

"Rachel will have to drive you to work in your new Prius. I hope you're okay with driving 50 miles per hour on highways and wearing chinos to depositions."

"Don't be jealous. I can ship you comfier clothes when you check into the nursing home in a few years."

Harvey grunts back a laugh. "Always with the old man jokes. Do you ever have new material?" Their tone is light but Harvey may as well be holding their impending vehicle purchase on his shoulders with the heaviness he feels.

The air matches the weight, so much left unsaid. Not that the words could ever sort it out.

"I'm sorry, Harvey," Mike says, a frown forming.

Harvey shakes his head, guilt filling him like a glass running over. "You shouldn't be sorry, Mike. We had a great run. You deserve to move on."

"Yeah, but I could never have become this without you."

Harvey tightens his jaw, swallowing as if the gesture could stop the throbbing in his temple. "No. You couldn't," he says with a hairline choke, knowing he is talking as much about mentor as mentee. His head becomes all pressure with nowhere to release. Everything held in and barely under control. He chances a glance to his pressure release. All red and grace like she absorbs his heat and wears it in beauty.

Words linger as Rachel links an arm through Mike's, their more impressive female counterparts returning.

Louis joins them when they're all hugging. He's blubbering enough ugly tears for the five of them and somehow the moment is fitting. He now has Sheila after all, who has already began the task of calming Louis's erratic storm. Donna's glad he has someone; it's not a secretarial responsibility anymore.

Mike stands straighter. "We wanted more than anything to say thank you to you all before we go. Each of you has helped us get here and we could never..." Mike's words break off, emotion stealing them.

Rachel takes his hand, taking lead. "We could never have gotten here without you." Her voice breaks too, tears freely flowing now, but she continues. "We'll never forget it. We love you all. And you're forever a part of our new family."

They're now saying their final goodbyes, and it's like a stopwatch has sped up. Before Donna can figure out how to slow it they're fading away. In the end she's left side-by-side with her constant stoic-yet-crumbled-on-the-inside partner in complexity.

"You okay?" he manages, not taking his eyes from Mike and Rachel's car growing dimmer in the night.

She wipes at her cheeks, thankful for long-term lash extensions and waterproof mascara. "Just exhausted. I better get my things and call a cab."

"It's after midnight."

She stops, turning back. "You think out of the two of us, I'm the one needing reminding of the time?"

His head bends. "You got me that room. You could stay."

She's not sure how to protest without implying what's silently hanging between them. "I don't have any of my things anyway."

"I've got things you could use in my suitcase."

She opens her mouth to let out all the quickly building protests.

He stops her. "Donna, I got up at 4AM New York time, worked all day dealing with Jessica, got on a flight in Chicago, and headed straight here. I have no doubts you're just as tired pulling off everything you did. It's over an hour drive back to the city and I'm not going to sleep well sending you off alone. Can we get over the goddamn logistics of beds and toothbrushes so we can both rest?"

He's obviously beyond weary, just as anyone would expect under the circumstances they've recently faced. But it's not toiletries and surfaces that make her waver. It's the undercurrent of recent emotion ready to pick her off her feet and drop her to uncharted places.

There's a lost piece to his request, an option both know exists at the check-in desk to the very hotel. Separate spaces and safe ground by way of a plastic key card and American Express.

She plays the altered game. "Okay."

He does a single nod. And she follows him through the hotel lobby, stopping only to pick up her coat and purse. Their disconnection along the way is almost the essence of his presence to outsiders. Closed off. No one would know the entrenched ties except for her fellow intuitive's that can read their hidden synergy.

They ride alone on the elevator in charged silence.

Climbing floors.

5-6-7-8-9-10

She has no idea what to make of his body language at the moment, and it's unsettling. His recent all over her with smiles and hands has somehow set something off-center between them. A building storm she doesn't know how to prepare for rests behind those bronze eyes.

13. The doors open. The number is fitting.

She wobbles getting off. Exhaustion, dancing, and all-day-heels taking their toll.

"Do you need me to carry you?" He grabs her elbow to steady her, mouth pressing together in a smirk.

"Not with as drunk as you were tonight." She wants to ease the tension that's settled between them.

"I'll have you know I had only three glasses of champagne all night."

They arrive. 1306.

"You could've fooled me with that dancing," she dares, poking a stick at the change in him.

He slides the key in. "I seem to remember I had a partner, and you're the one wobbly." He opens the door.

She steps in a few feet, setting her things down just inside. "It's these damn heels, and you keeping me moving all night."

The room is spacious with an extra large bed in the center. A stocked minibar and snacks sit in a small kitchen, with a large cut out with shutters opening up to a large jetted tub in the restroom. It isn't anything presidential, just the best she could manage last-minute.

When she looks at him he's watching her with an odd focus. "So hurry up and take them off." He stares somewhere low on her dress slit.

Her lips part at the demand, the suggestiveness hard to dismiss. She watches him closely as she unhooks the straps and slips them off, dropping her down a few inches. They get tossed to the side of a dresser.

He breaks his eyes from her, lifting his suitcase to a folding rack. He then pulls out a pair of boxers and a T-shirt, setting them on the dresser beside him along with a packaged toothbrush on top. "From the hotel in Chicago," he explains.

She sucks in a bottom lip, the taste of her lipstick long gone. "Thanks for this. And for... making the night easier to get through."

"Sure." He smiles, but then the expression fades, an obvious thought brewing. "Did you know about them leaving when you called?"

"I did," she answers carefully. "But Mike wanted to be the one to tell you."

He nods but she can see he's not thrilled with her response.

She doesn't have time or energy to carefully pry it out of him to offset damage. "We both know there's something more you want to say and we're both exhausted. So just do."

He measures her for a moment, then looks away and pulls his tie loose, folding it with care and setting it on the dresser. He undoes his top button and frowns. "Alright. If for some reason I hadn't been able to make it back, would you have told me after they were gone?"

Donna drops her gaze. "I don't know what he would've done."

"I said you, Donna. You never used to keep these things from me."

"Some things aren't the same," she offers vaguely.

He stands a little straighter. "So this was intentional, to put distance between us?"

"What? No, of course not." For some reason she senses he's picking a fight with her. Their compass has suddenly gone haywire and he seems to be the cause and she can't keep up with intention. "Why even have me come here if you're upset with me?"

"Because I..." He slumps in front of her, gaze and focus slipping down, followed by expression.

Suddenly her usual guards have grown as tired as she has, crumbled with cracks fracturing deeper in the grit. The coming tidal wave hits now that they're alone and she's unprepared. She pushes out a breath, body bending with it as a scold for standing in front of him doing this.

She instantly regrets not going back to her place, letting loneliness and tears peel out until she could put on a fresh face and new dress and pretend she's coping well. That's how Harvey liked her anyway. A pristine pillar against his rod-straight wall.

He can't handle her like this. He never could. He does harshness and strength and she knows he's drained of both with her. She pushes past her feelings, forcing herself to Donna up. "Let's just stop here. We both know you don't want to stand here and talk about feelings."

"Goddammit, Donna. I'm trying! I'm not good at this. But you know damn well if there's anyone I'd want to go through this with, it's you."

"How can I know that?" she demands, the frantic feeling in her chest making her as unsteady as she was before. "I don't even know what this is."

"How can you not know?"

She lets out a heavy sigh, looking to the window. "Two weeks ago you were ready to throw away our... whatever it is we are for someone you'd been dating less than three months."

He stands a little straighter. "Which I instantly fixed by ending it."

"After I was gone." She pauses. Perhaps thinking for the past few weeks they could avoid this argument had been foolish. "Maybe loyalty only applies when it affects you."

His jaw tenses, a sardonic nod telling her the comment hit hard. "Back to normal? Guess that was a lie."

She throws her hands up. "Trying to piece together what we lost doesn't mean I wasn't hurt." She swallows then. It hadn't been a lie, not really. She'd spent a career letting her feelings slide in order to maintain their blurred status.

"What you want me to say? That's the worst thing I can imagine doing but I panicked. I was trying to make things work. Weren't you forced into a similar situation once? With that guy?"

She heaves a sigh. Incredulous. "That was after dating for six months! And I didn't hesitate choosing you when he gave me the ultimatum."

"I also didn't barge into your relationship and kiss you."

His responses had suddenly become infuriatingly calm. Like she'd been the one to bring them here. Like she's the over-reactor and he's the sensible bystander. She wasn't letting him get away with that bullshit.

"No. You just monopolized every other area of my life."

"Why?"

She ignores the question, not even sure what he's asking or if she truly wants the answer revealed. "You know what? You're right, Harvey. I'm the one that screwed this up. Maybe you should have just let me remain pushed off to Stu."

"You were never... I didn't say that."

"You did! That day in your office. I made one emotionally fueled slip up with you in twelve years, and maybe it was one too many." She's past this. Passing him she reaches for the clothes on the dresser to get them out of whatever they've stumbled into.

Suddenly he's behind her, hands resting against her upper arms. "Donna. I'm sorry."

Goosebumps form as his fingertips lightly brush her skin.

He's leaning toward her, which she only knows because of the breath against her cheek. "Why did you let me monopolize every other area of your life?"

"I..." She can't help the lean into him, ignoring the boundary between them they keep breaking and trying to rebuild. They aren't boss and secretary anymore. And at the moment they're not even managing partner and his favorite COO. They are best friends yes, but most of all they are something they haven't been in a long time.

A man and a woman, trying to detangle the spiraling feelings between them.

When she hits against his chest his arms wrap around her from behind. Securing her. Catching her breath. She lets out a whimper, unable to lock it back. He's leaning into her, a slight rock in his embrace. She could feel his hot breath against her temple, an arm around both her chest and waist. She allows herself to relax into him. This feels about more than Mike and Rachel, about more than the previous weeks' complicated mess between them, but she can't dare ask. The timer for avoiding the far intimate long runs out in their quiet.

She feels his arm start to slip away, smoothing down hair as he does that sticks to his stubbled face.

Then his lips brush her skin.

At the place where her shoulder and neck meet. She chills again, feeling his warm mouth moving against her skin, hands again brushing down her bare arms. Her eyes close at the sensation. A finger traces down the spaghetti strap of her dress, the movement charging bare skin.

"H-H-Harvey?"

He pulls away and she spins around. His eyes bore into hers, his expression one she knows but can't place. "I'm sorry too, Harvey. About not telling you about Mike. About Paula. About kiss-"

"Don't." He cuts her off, swallowing. The emotion behind the action is more than she can manage. She quickly grabs the items he laid out and escapes behind the bathroom door. Her back meets the surface.

A kiss. An opened mouth kiss against her skin.

The dancing. The smiling. The hand-holding. The lingering looks. And the way he'd touched her just now. The doubts slip away and form the panic beating in her chest. And maybe it's drunkenness, or losing Mike, or being lonely and wanting to use her in the way she'd begun to write the invitation for when their lips crashed.

She's arrived with him. And she doesn't know how to let go.

A/N's: So, I'm super nervous about this one(more so than usual), so please share what you think? I have part two written, it just needs some re-writes and editing so for me this will be quick. My plan for this fic got taken all over the place thanks to the characters being insistent. Thanks always so much for reading and the reviews. ~K(or Blue if you're Elle) Thanks to BewG for giving me some assistance.