A/N: I originally wrote this for the Darvey Secret Santa exchange on Twitter, so if it looks familiar, that's because it was posted anonymously under that account first. :) Reposting to my own account for the sake of having all my fics in the same place. :)

Written for a prompt: a gala; a drop dead gorgeous Donna getting loads of male attention; a jealous and angry Harvey; rooftop scene; "That's how I love you"; Scottie is there

.

There's about four hours left to this year and Harvey is spending it at a New Year's Eve charity gala which is exactly the opposite of how he wants to be spending it, which is anywhere else.

The event has been organized by Louis and is, by the looks of it, being attended by everyone the firm has ever represented, contested with or existed simultaneously as, and Harvey is equal parts impressed by this as he is horrified by the fact. He's already seen at least three people that hate his guts and he has no doubt in his mind that number is bound to quadruple by the end of the night.

Looking around, he scans the crowd for a friendly face which is just his way of not admitting to himself the person he's actually looking for is Donna. She's nowhere to be seen which doesn't alarm him. She's definitely coming, that much he knows. He looks down at his watch. She's just taking her sweet time.

Louis is here, of course, and he's already said hello to Katrina and chatted to Alex and Zane; even Benjamin the IT guy is here. He's bored already and Donna is his partner in crime at events like these. Tapping two impatient fingers against his leg, he tries not to look at the door. She's coming. She's part of the main event, after all.

.

Harvey glances up when he hears her entering his office. She's wearing a green dress in keeping with the season. She's been trying that bit harder this year, and he's noticed. He's been noticing her a lot recently.

"Donna."

"Harvey." She places some documents on the desk. "The funds have been approved, I have the paperwork here."

"Thank you," he looks up from his papers as she takes a seat across from him, crossing her legs. "Anything I can help you with?"

"Are you going to the gala?"

"You mean Louis' New Year's Galapalooza?" He rolls his eyes at the ridiculous term Louis has coined, sitting back in his chair. "Yeah, I kinda have to. You?"

"I kinda have to, as well." She shoots him a look. "I'm part of the fund raiser."

It takes a beat, but Harvey gets there. "You're auctioning yourself off for charity?" he grins. He can hardly believe his ears.

"Don't," she waves him off. "Louis pretty much volunteered me."

"How do you mean, volunteered?"

"I think his exact words were, and I quote," she looks up, narrowing her eyes, "Donna, will you please do this, too late I already put your name down, please please don't be mad this is really important to me."

Harvey snorts.

She pokes her chin at him, "What about you?"

"What about me."

"Apparently the men are being auctioned off, too. Louis is an equal opportunity pimp," she widens her eyes as she does the air quotes, then extrapolates. "Again, his words, not mine."

Harvey snorts. "Donna," he twirls the pen between his fingers. "The fact I'm ringing in a new year with Louis is charity enough."

She eyes him suspiciously. "You gave money, didn't you."

"I sure as hell did!" If a grand was what it would take to let him drink in peace, he was more than happy to donate.

"Where is your holiday spirit?"

Harvey leans back, considering her. "You're not sufficiently annoyed by this."

"It's a worthy charity close to his heart. Besides, it's just a bit of holiday fun."

He narrows his eyes, pointing the pen at her, "He owes you."

She shrugs innocently, "Maybe he does."

"What is it?"

"That's for me to know, and for you to find out," she raises an eyebrow at him. It's easy and it's flirty. There's been a lot of that, too. He feels like it might be going somewhere. Like they could finally be ready.

He chuckles low in his throat. "The Louis Whisperer."

Donna picks at an invisible lint on her dress. "I go by many names."

"Seems like you're not the only one, either."

"How do you mean?"

"Samantha agreed to do it."

Donna's eyebrows skyrocket, "What did she get in exchange? His firstborn? Is Sheila aware of this?"

Harvey huffs, sitting up. "Let's just say, starting with January 1st, Warren and Liebowitz are getting superior representation," he makes air quotes of his own, repeating what Samantha told him the day before in the break room.

"Client trading," she shakes her head, smiling. "Borderline moral, how in the spirit of the holiday season." Hands on the arms of the chair, she stands up. "Too bad about you, pretty. Could have made some woman with more money than sense very happy."

"You know, Donna," he says suggestively. "If you want to have dinner with me, all you have to do is ask."

She laughs and he wishes she'd take his flirtation seriously. He wishes he had the guts to not leave it up for interpretation at all. Maybe in the new year.

Donna heads for the door but there's still one thing he's curious about. "Hey," he stops her before she leaves. "Are you bringing anyone?"

Donna opens her mouth and there's a shadow of something that crosses her face; a beginning of an expression that he doesn't quite catch. "No," she replies. "Not bringing anyone."

He nods and she turns, her fingers patting the glass frame of his office door. She walks out and down the corridor. Harvey watches her go and tries really hard not to dwell on the fact that she never returned his question.

.

The first thing Harvey notices when Donna makes her entrance is all the red.

It's New Year's Eve, so really, it's fitting. On the other hand, she doesn't wear red that often – something about her being a redhead, she told him once; he doesn't really remember. He thinks it's a load of bullshit, anyway. She looks stunning. The dress is simple and elegant and hugs her waist in just the way that makes his hands itch to touch her. It's uncanny how she makes these sort of events both bearable and maddening.

The second thing he notices is that she's alone. He thought she would be - she said she would be - but that was a couple of weeks ago, and this is New Year's Eve, after all. Most people here are coupled. She notices him right away, giving him a smile as she makes her way into the large ballroom. He smiles back his first genuine smile of the day.

He watches her make her way to him. It takes awhile as she's stopped by a few familiar faces. He observes her from where he's standing and she is radiant. The thing about Donna is, yeah she's beautiful, and she's charming and she's definitely a people person, but it's so much more than that. When she's talking to someone, she makes them feel valued and listened to; she makes them feel like they're the most important person in the room.

It can be intoxicating, that feeling. He knows that from personal experience.

There are a couple of men amongst the people who stop her to chat. He notices the way they look at her, the appreciative glances, and he can all but hear the corny lines she's being served from ten feet away. This is nothing new; he's watched Donna being ogled and wooed by men on many occasions over the years. It's funny how he hasn't gotten used to it at all. Not one bit.

He needs a drink.

With a throaty laugh, she extracts herself from a conversation and then she's by his side, fingers clutching his bicep. "I need a drink."

He groans, "Tell me about it." His hand moves to hover behind the small of her back – not touching, never touching – as he follows her to the nearest bar.

"Impressive turnout," she comments as they reach it, her eyes scanning the room. "Louis did well."

"Of course I did well. I took an event organizing course in my youth. I was a natural."

Harvey turns to find Louis standing behind him. "Louis. You look," he gives him a once-over. "Agitated. More so than usual."

"Damn right I'm agitated, Harvey. Sheila has twenty times her normal hormone levels." He turns to Donna, index sticking up in the air as if to prevent any potential critique, "I know she's carrying my child, she is a goddess and her body is a temple of life." Harvey makes a face he hopes adequately conveys his reluctance to hear any more on the subject. Louis ignores him, as usual. "But I swear to God, she is driving me insane."

"Okay," Donna draws out in question.

Louis is all too happy to elaborate. "On top of that, there are the pressures of being the newly appointed managing partner," he looks between them. "I need this to go well."

"Louis, relax," Donna is using her smooth Louis voice and he can totally see how she's The Whisperer. "Everything looks great, it's an amazing charity and we're here to support you," she reassures, squeezing his arm.

"Yeah, Louis," Harvey quips. "It's new year's, there's loads of booze, what could go wrong."

"I can't believe you just said that," Louis gives him a hard stare.

"Come on, look around." Harvey does so himself. "Everyone's having a good time. Relax," he says, slapping his shoulder.

"You think?"

"Yes," Donna interjects, hoping to put an end to this conversation. Harvey hopes the same.

Louis is nodding, "You're right, you're right. This is fine." He grabs her hands. "I couldn't have outdone myself without you."

"My pleasure, Louis," she says, adding. "Just remember about the –"

"Yes, yes, I know, I know."

Once he's gone, Harvey turns to her suspiciously, "What did he promise you?"

Donna shrugs but doesn't answer, ordering the drinks instead. Handing him his scotch, she takes a generous mouthful of her drink. "Thank fuck for alcohol."

"Don't worry, Donna," he reassures her. "Someone will bid on you."

She rolls her eyes. "That's not what I'm worried about, believe me." She glances at the crowd. "The whole thing is wildly outdated, don't you think?"

"Regretting it now?"

"No," she sounds sure in her answer. "It's for a good cause and what better way to celebrate 2019 than auctioning myself off to rich men."

Harvey almost chokes on his drink. "Holy shit."

"You okay there?" she pats him lightly on the back.

Wiping his mouth, he nods. "Where's your holiday spirit?" he teases her.

She surprises him with honesty, "In Cortland."

"How come you didn't go?"

"Would be kind of lonely with just me there," she explains. "My parents are spending Christmas in Paris."

"Paris. Together?"

"They're rekindling their romance."

"That's," he tries to think of a word and can't. "Nice."

"Yeah," she decides, and she sounds optimistic. "Never too late, apparently." She shoots him a quick sideways glance, but directs her eyes back at the crowd before he can detect any hidden meaning behind her words.

He wonders at the truth of it as they stand there, sipping their drinks and watching people arrive. It's felt like they've been on the verge of something for months now. But he's been putting it off – them – for so long, he's not sure where or how to even start. He's not usually introspective or nostalgic – or at least he tries his hardest not to be. It could be the season, the fact they're about to say farewell to yet another year where he didn't have the balls to give this a chance. She kissed him this year. It should have gone somewhere. They shouldn't be ringing in the new year together, but not. He shouldn't have to watch her grab a date with someone else. He should be her date.

"I wonder which of these fine men will be having the pleasure of dining with Donna Paulsen," he muses, his voice lighter than he feels.

She smiles behind her glass, taking a sip. "I wonder."

A feeling of possessiveness washes over him then, and he's pretty sure he doesn't have the right which ironically makes the feeling all the stronger. He's wanted her for so long in so many ways the fact he's never made his move is irrelevant in his own mind.

Harvey's been toying with the idea of bidding on Donna since she told him she was doing it, but he wasn't sure how well-received that would be. He also had some vague plans about making an actual honest to God move, and buying her just didn't have the same healthy feel as wooing her did.

She's swaying to the Sinatra being crooned in the background. His eyes trail from her face and her hair, over her shoulder and down her bare arm and he sees no reason not to touch her. Tapping his index on her elbow, he extends his hand, his eyebrows raised in question.

She looks down then up at him again. "Dancing to Christmas songs? Mister Grinch himself?"

He rolls his eyes, "I'm not a Grinch. I just don't do festive."

"That's the very definition of a Grinch."

"Donna," he says, his voice deep and patient. "Do you want to dance or not?"

"Well, when you ask so nicely," she trails off, but she's smiling and putting her flute down and then he's leading her to the dancefloor in the middle of the room.

There are more than a few couples dancing now, the evening certainly having picked up. Her skin feels warm and soft under his touch, familiar. The scent is different, though. "New perfume?"

She frowns at him, "Yes."

"What?"

"Nothing," she shakes her head. "Just surprised you'd notice."

"I notice," he says simply, looking at her as they start to move to the melody. "It's nice."

She seems fidgety. "I thought I'd try something new."

"New is good." His hand sliding up between her shoulder blades, he pulls her closer. "I like the other one better." They're dancing cheek to cheek so he can't see her reaction when he adds, "Smells more like Donna." He can feel her tucking her chin and lowering her head and he doesn't need to see her face to know that's a pretty good sign.

"I'll keep that in mind," she murmurs, her breath tickling the skin just above his collar. Her fingers are on the back of his neck but he feels them all the way down his spine.

They sway through a couple of songs and it's only halfway through the second one that he realizes he's closed his eyes and hasn't stopped smiling.

.

They go to get their refills and he is dragged into a conversation with one of their oldest clients. Donna excuses herself and he sees her chatting to a few people as she makes her way through the crowd. There are more than a few appreciative glances from the men, but she doesn't seem to notice and if she does, she certainly doesn't care. Harvey feels relieved each time she moves on from a conversation, which is probably the wrong thing to feel. He can't help it.

He loses sight of her somewhere between Fletcher telling him about his newest acquisition and his wife telling him he's far too handsome to be single which could be considered inappropriate if she wasn't a hundred and ten. They leave and he's left alone, thinks about tracking her down.

He's just looking at his watch when there's a hand on his back. "Hello, Harvey."

Looking up, he's genuinely surprised, "Scottie."

"Didn't expect to see me here?"

"No, I really didn't," is his honest answer. "What are you doing here? Did Louis invite you?"

"I'm old friends with the charity chairman, actually."

Harvey narrows his eyes, "You don't have old friends."

"What would you call yourself?" she challenges.

"The one that got away?" he smirks at her, taking a sip of his drink.

Scottie lets out a short laugh, "Your ego always was your most impressive attribute."

"You and I both know that's not true."

Scottie chuckles and it's nice how easy it feels. There's no undercurrent of tit-for-tat or anything waiting to happen and he finds he actually enjoys her company. It makes a pleasant change.

"Wanna grab a drink?"

She eyes him wearily, "I don't know, Harvey."

"Come on, Scottie," he says matter of fact. "It's a drink. I'm not asking for your hand in marriage."

She chuckles at that. "That'd be the day."

They make their way to the bar. "Macallan eighteen and a," he turns to look at her.

"A glass of champagne, please." She comes to stand next to him, thanking the bartender. "So. I see Donna is having a good time. Who's the tall dark and handsome?"

Harvey frowns. "She's here alone," he says, turning to her.

"Oh," she says. "Well, she might have come here alone but she's leaving with that guy, if he gets a say."

Harvey follows her gaze to where Donna is chatting to some guy. He looks vaguely familiar, though Harvey can't quite place him. He's in her ear and he must be fucking hilarious because she bursts out laughing at whatever it is he just said. She touches his arm when he leans in, her head falling down, a smile on her lips. He knows that expression. It used to be his.

"I take it you still haven't resolved your Donna complication then?" Scottie asks significantly.

Harvey tears his gaze away from Donna to focus on Scottie. To prove he can. "There is no complication, Scottie. There never was."

Scottie lets out a laugh at that. "Right."

Things between him and Scottie may be easy and friendly, but there's no way he's discussing Donna with her. He switches to her favorite topic. "I hear you signed Rove Farms."

"I did," she inclines her head, raising her glass at him. "I hear they were one of the companies you guys were gunning for."

Harvey shrugs, "We thought we'd let you have this one." Raising his own glass in return, he adds, "Foley Fine Foods is a better fit for us anyway."

"Foley? Really," she sounds suitably impressed and normally, Harvey would be basking in it; he's too distracted by the hand on the small of Donna's back. He hears Scottie say something about competition and being on opposing sides again. He hums his agreement, makes some vaguely suitable comment, but he's not really listening. He watches as Donna lets out an easy laugh, patting the man's chest, briefly but with a familiarity Harvey finds unsettling.

And then he places him.

In the conference room, with Louis and Katrina and one of his own CEOs. Donna was there, too, and he only remembers it because he poked his head through to get Louis alone for a moment. Jacobs was breathing down his neck about speaking with the managing partner and Harvey had had about enough of the man's attitude.

"This is just sad now."

He blinks, refocusing his attention on Scottie. It's too late, though; she's noticed. "Sorry, I was just –"

"Oh, I know what you were just," she looks at him and it's playful, but there's a hint of sadness in her smile when she says, "You never were very good at fighting for the people you love."

"Scottie," he wants to deflect. He wants to apologize. For being a lousy boyfriend and a lousy ex-boyfriend and a lousy whatever the hell it was they were right now.

She waves him off. "Don't worry, Harvey. It's actually a relief." Finishing her drink, she answers his unspoken question, "I can just walk away from this particular complication now."

Harvey wishes to god he could do the same.

.

A scotch later, he's joined by Louis. "The auction is in half an hour." He frowns at Harvey, "You sure you don't want to get up there? I mean, it would be highly irregular to add someone at this late hour, but I'm sure they'd make an exception for a fine specimen like you."

Harvey puts his palm up, "I'm good."

"Okay."

"Hey, Louis," Harvey says, because he forgot to earlier. "Good job, man."

Louis smiles one of his wide smiles and Harvey thinks for a second he's going to hug him. Instead, Louis just nods, "Thank you, Harvey."

They stand like that until it gets a little uncomfortable for Harvey's liking. "Okay, that's enough," he says but it's meant fondly and Louis knows it. Changing the subject, Harvey asks as casually as he can muster, "Hey, what's the deal with Donna and your client."

Louis looks around, eyes landing on Donna, "Oh, Kessler. Nothing, why?"

Harvey shakes his head, "Just wondering."

"I know they worked pretty closely together on the merger," he continues. "He loves the theater."

"I bet he does," Harvey mutters to himself.

"You don't think," Louis starts, ending the sentence in some sort of a hand gesture Harvey doesn't really want to decipher.

"No, of course not. Donna doesn't date men she works with." Except they both know that's not strictly true. Also —

"They don't work together anymore," Louis is helpful to point out.

"Can't blame her for living her life," Harvey muses into his glass, remembering something she told him years ago.

Sheila comes to tell Louis it's time to get ready for his speech and Harvey is left alone. He watches Donna still talking to Kessler, animated and carefree. He thinks about going over there and introducing himself, get a read on the guy and the situation, but then Donna's eyes meet his and her smile falters as she stops mid-sentence, and he thinks better of it.

He turns his back to her and goes to get another drink.

.

Half an hour later, the charity chairman is introducing Louis to the stage. He comes on to applause, shakes hands with the committee. Harvey searches for Donna and finds her standing with Samantha right of the podium, ready to come on when needed.

She shoots him a small smile. He averts his eyes to Louis.

"A few months ago, I got mugged," Louis begins and Harvey starts paying attention. "I was just walking from my apartment to meet a client and some guy pointed a gun at my stomach and told me to do as he says or I'll get shot."

The room goes quiet, all eyes now on Louis. Taking a breath, he continues, "I don't want to go into too much detail because it's not the details that matter. It's how they stay with you and how unpredictably they appear, the images and the sounds and the overwhelming fear. God, the fear. It doesn't matter how old you are or how rich you are or how brave you are, the fear is crippling."

Louis pauses and Harvey catches his eye, giving him a little nod. He gives Louis a lot of shit, but he's got heart and he's got balls. Man, he's got balls.

Nodding back, Louis continues, "I was lucky. I got away pretty much unscathed. I also have an amazing support system, my wonderful fiancée and my friends and colleagues." He looks around the room, at Samantha and Donna, at Zane and then over at him before turning back to the crowd. "I also have the resources necessary to cope with the trauma. Not everyone is as fortunate." Turning around to the charity chairman, he says, "That's why the work that Forward Thinking does is so important. It helps people with PTSD move on beyond their traumas and enables them to live the life they remember living before they got robbed of the ability."

Harvey smiles, wondering if Louis wrote that little pun deliberately, but looking at him up there, passionate and earnest, he thinks probably not. As Louis wraps up his speech, urging people to donate generously, and leaves the stage to a thunderous applause, Harvey thinks maybe he's the right guy to be managing partner, after all.

.

The auction itself is a pretty relaxed affair.

The auctioneer briefly explains the rules. Starting bid is a thousand dollars and the "date" is in no way romantic, which is a matter of course, each party can back out if ever they feel uncomfortable, and so on and so forth, let the games begin.

Samantha goes on first and she's a natural, he'll give her that. She is introduced and she makes her way to the center of the stage to take the microphone. She makes a few appropriate jokes then applauds Louis and the work the charity does. Harvey is only half listening, his eyes darting to where Donna is standing beside the podium, smiling up at the other woman, clapping emphatically when she finishes.

Samantha is a beautiful woman and there is no shortage of men – and women – bidding on her. In the end, it's Claridge, one of the real estate hotshots, who's the highest bidder and Harvey smirks. She's been trying to sign his company for months and there's no way in hell this is a coincidence. Harvey shakes his head and she shoots him a look as she walks off the stage. He raises a glass at her and doesn't mind one bit the smug look on her face.

It's Benjamin the IT guy being bid on next and that's a surprise. He's nowhere near at ease on stage as Samantha was which is not surprising. He does inspire quite a bidding war between two rich ladies well in their sixties which is a surprise. Harvey watches with amusement and manages to go all of five minutes not thinking about Donna.

Ten minutes later and it's Donna's turn. He's so focused on her he misses Samantha coming to stand next to him.

"She looks gorgeous."

Harvey nods, ignoring the speculative look on her face, "She does." Changing the subject, he asks, "Signed Claridge yet?"

"This is a social event," she raises her eyebrows. "For a charity near and dear to Bernard's heart. It would be tacky to talk business tonight."

Harvey smirks, "You've done your homework."

Samantha's smile turns cocky, "Always." She points at the stage just as Donna is climbing it, "I wonder who's going to be the lucky guy." She leans in, adding in a conspiratory tone, "My money's on Kessler."

Hand balling into a fist by his side, Harvey manages to keep his voice even, "And why is that."

"They've been awfully cosy tonight, don't tell me you haven't noticed."

He watches as Donna shakes hands with the charity chairman, "He's our client." His voice belies his words, though. It should be an obstacle; somehow, he doubts it is.

Samantha doesn't seem to be buying it either. "I don't think that's going to stop a man like Kessler."

"A man like Kessler?"

"Yeah," she shrugs. "He seems like the kind of guy who goes after what he wants." She's looking at the stage and not at him, and Harvey isn't sure if she's trying to make a point or if he's reading too much into it. Probably the latter. He's had too much Scottie in his ear.

Luckily, he doesn't have to respond because there's a sound of the microphone and then Donna is being introduced. Harvey motions for another drink. "Make it a double."

.

"When Louis Litt asked me to do this, I have to admit I was a little reluctant," she tips her head to the side, narrowing her eyes, gesturing "a little" with her fingers. "But then he offered me a huge bonus and Robert Zane's office, and I could hardly say no to that." She looks over at Zane chuckling. "I'll expect your things gone by Friday, thank you, Robert." Harvey smiles despite himself. "But, no, really, all jokes aside. What actually won me over was his passion for this wonderful charity and having done some reading about what these people do, it's an absolute honor to contribute in any small way. And if that means being taken to a nice restaurant and a Broadway show, then so be it."

The crowd laughs and Samantha chuckles next to him, "I don't generally like people, but Donna. She sure is easy to like."

Harvey swallows, his eyes glued to the woman in question, "She sure is."

He doesn't have to look to know Samantha is staring at him. He ignores her.

The auction starts with the agreed upon sum of a thousand dollars. A couple of men he doesn't recognise get it up to three pretty quickly.

"Five thousand," he hears from his left and when he turns to her, Samantha is shrugging. "I'm only human, Harvey."

He thinks Samantha is starting to grow on him.

"Six thousand," comes from across the room. Harvey follows the voice and sure enough, it's Kessler, grinning proudly. He rolls his eyes, but when he looks back to the stage, he sees Donna is barely suppressing a smile.

A familiar feeling bubbles up in his chest and the words are out of his mouth before he can think better of them. "Ten thousand dollars."

"What the hell are you doing?" Samantha asks in a hushed voice and by the look on Donna's face, he can tell she's thinking the same. He doesn't have a fucking clue, if he's honest.

"Ten thousand dollars from the very generous gentleman by the bar. Do we hear –"

"Twelve thousand."

Son of a – "Fifteen thousand." Harvey averts his eyes from a confused Donna to Kessler, who doesn't seem confused at all. "No, you know what. Make that twenty thousand."

Shaking his head, Kessler lifts his hand. "Thirty thousand dollars."

Harvey doesn"t care about the money. He cares about beating this guy. He finishes his drink as the man on the podium starts, "Thirty thousand for the dinner with this lovely lady here. Going once, going twice –"

"Fifty thousand dollars," he says, putting his empty glass on the bar.

There are murmurs around the room and people are probably staring, but he ignores them. Kessler looks over at him expressionless, and Harvey smirks.

"Congratulations to the gentleman in the back."

He looks over at the stage, and there's Donna. Her eyes are wide and her face is blank, and he suddenly feels like he just crossed a line there's no going back from.

"Did it not occur to you she meant for him to win?" he hears Samantha ask next to him.

Harvey works his jaw, refusing to answer.

Samantha knows anyway. "That's the whole reason you bid, isn't it," she states and he thinks it's more with pity than despise. "Smooth, jackass."

Not taking his eyes off Donna, he nods. "Yeah."

He thinks he is.

.

He sees her approaching and she looks furious. She looks hot. He twirls his fingers over the bar, indicating for another drink.

Donna gives Samantha a tight smile, "Do you mind giving us a minute?"

"I was just leaving," she replies, taking her glass and shooting Donna a knowing look.

Harvey keeps his face neutral, steeling himself for what's coming.

Once Samantha is out of earshot, Donna turns to him, "You want to tell me what the hell just happened?"

"What happened, Donna," he starts casually, nodding at the bartender as he serves him. "Is that Forward Thinking's just received fifty grand and you get to spend a pleasant evening at Del Posto with your good friend Harvey."

"Don't give me that bullshit, Harvey," her tone is hushed because she's not one for a scene. He briefly thinks on the lobby and the I didn't feel anything and the I fucking earned it and scratches that. She's not one for a scene at charities then. He can still hear the anger loud and clear, despite her restraint. "You just couldn't help yourself, could you. You just had to stake your claim."

"Donna –"

"Which is not only insulting and completely out of line but also makes no sense considering the fact you showed no interest in doing it when it actually counted."

Harvey looks at her puzzled, but she's waving it off, clearly not in the mood to rehash history tonight. For once, he wishes she would. He feels like they've been trading meaningless words for years now.

He's not the one to break with tradition, though. "Listen, Donna, I'm sorry if it came across that way, but I'm telling you I —"

"No. Don't do that. Don't you dare make me feel like I'm the irrational one, after you just spent fifty thousand dollars in a glorified pissing contest. That was humiliating."

He works his jaw, because she's right. That's exactly what it was. He can't admit to it, so instead he decides to be petulant. He's good at that. "Hey, I wasn't the only one bidding," he defends. "I don't see you chewing his ass off."

"He," she inhales; he's testing her patience. "Is not the topic of this conversation."

"What is the topic, Donna?"

"You really don't see anything wrong with what you did?"

"Maybe I just wanted to save you from having to date someone you work with." He's good at being petty, too. "Maybe if you told me that was no longer a rule you cared about, I could have made a more informed decision."

Resting her forearm on the bar, her voice is cool when she responds, "You have something to say to me, Harvey, just say it."

Running his tongue over the backs of his teeth, he feels it on the tip of it; all the things he wants to tell her. He bites down on every single one. "No. Not a damn thing." He downs the drink, motions for another. "Look, you don't have to worry. About this dinner date. I won't hold you to it."

Donna huffs, nodding. "No, of course you won't. You never do," she murmurs but he hears her alright.

"What did you just say to me?"

"Nothing, Harvey." She looks at him and her eyes are filled with every single disappointment he's ever been to her. "Not a damn thing." She motions her head at the scotch being put before him, "Enjoy your drink. Happy New Year, Harvey."

He watches her walk away, her bare back and her red hair and his last chance at happiness, and he wishes he knew how to stop screwing this up.

"You know," he hears Scottie coming to join him and he closes his eyes. This can only be good, and he is so not in the mood for it. "One of these days you're going to get your head out of your ass and ask her out the adult way." She turns her head to him after Donna disappears from their view. "But by then she'll be with someone else."

Trust Scottie to kick him when he's down.

"She's already seeing someone else."

He thinks he knew it as soon as he saw Kessler with her. He certainly knew it when he started the bidding war. Kessler wasn't there just because he was on the guest list. He was there as Donna's unofficial date. Possibly a first date; no more than a second or third. They didn't arrive together because it's still new. Because Harvey was there. His jaw clenches at the thought. He hates the implication.

"If you're not careful, Harvey, she'll be your one that got away."

"Scottie," he turns to her because now he's getting pissed. "What are you doing?"

"Just giving you some friendly advice."

Harvey purses his lips in annoyance. "For someone who insists on giving me dating tips, you sure are remarkably single."

That strikes a nerve, like he knew it would. "At least I haven't been pining after someone for years, like a lovesick puppy."

He gives her a pointed look, "Haven't you?"

Scottie nods, her lips a thin line. "You're such a dick, Harvey, you know that."

He does. He really fucking does. He's not in the mood to stop. "I guess that's a no to sex then."

He thinks she's going to say something scathing back. At least a good ol' screw you Harvey for auld lang syne; it's what they do, after all. Instead, the look on her face is almost pitying. "You know, Harvey," she leans in. "Donna is a beautiful intelligent fascinating woman. One of these days one of those guys is bound to stick. And you're going to end up all alone, convinced that's exactly what you deserve."

She sets her drink down on the bar and then she's walking off into the crowd and Harvey is left standing there, feeling like a grade a asshole. Again.

He leans back, his jaw tensing when he spots Kessler as he leads Donna to the dancefloor. He's smiling down at her as he places his hand on her naked back. Her fingers curl around his shoulder as she steps into him. She says something witty and he laughs, makes her smile turn bashful in return.

"Another one," he tells the bartender without turning.

The Michael Buble wannabe on stage sings about kissing a fool as Harvey watches her be happy with somebody else. Harvey digs his nails into his palm and drinks.

.

He's returning from the men's room having relieved some of the copious amounts of scotch he's drunk – and really, he should pace himself, it's not even eleven yet - contemplating whether it's even worth it, going back inside, when he sees Kessler walking towards him. Harvey doesn't acknowledge him except for the way his jaw sets and his shoulders square, and okay. He's probably radiating animosity.

"Is this going to be a thing?"

Harvey turns around immediately. "Excuse me?"

"I just want to know if this," he motions between them. "Is going to present a problem."

"There's no problem."

"Listen, Harvey," he starts, then "Can I call you Harvey?" Harvey refrains from rolling his eyes, but just about. He doesn't give a fuck what he calls him. He very nearly says that except for the fact the guy is still a client, Louis' client, a fact he brings up next. "I've been a client of your firm's for years and I don't intend on switching legal advice any time soon."

"That's reassuring to know."

"Excellent," he agrees. "What might not be so reassuring is the fact I also plan on dating Donna." Kessler's face is earnest when he adds, "So I'm asking again. Is any of this going to be a problem."

"Keppler," Harvey purses his lips, "Can I call you Keppler?" Kessler's lips give a tug, but otherwise he doesn't give Harvey the satisfaction. "What Donna does in her own time is none of my business."

"Is that so?" Harvey says nothing and Kessler presses on, "Because you sure made it your business earlier."

Getting a lecture from Donna is pretty low on his list of favorite pastimes, but she's usually right and he usually deserves it. She's also Donna. The hell if he'll stand here and take it from her goddamn date.

"She never mentioned she was seeing someone." And by the look on Kessler's face, Harvey can tell he'd have preferred it if she had shouted it from the rooftops. He cashes in on that. "In fact, she said she was coming here alone. For all I knew, you were just some creep bidding on my COO."

Kessler recovers quick, he'll give him that. "And for all I knew, you were just some creep bidding on my date."

He really fucking hates that word. "No, you didn't."

Kessler nods, "No, you're right. Of course I know who you are. I've been your client for years and your reputation precedes you." He looks at him evenly, "What I don't know is what's gone on between you two in the past, but it doesn't matter because when I asked Donna out she was single. And she said yes. So whatever beef you may have? It's not with me."

And that hits a nerve, hearing him dismiss his history with Donna as a nonconsequential non-issue. Harvey bites. When it comes to Donna, Harvey always bites. "Listen to me." Taking two steps towards the other man, he says in a conversational tone, "I'm really glad you and Donna seem to be hitting it off. In fact, I'm goddamn ecstatic for you. But I've known Donna for fourteen years and you've known her for fourteen days." He takes another step until he's in his face. "So you go on your date and you give it your best shot, buddy. Just remember that I –"

"That's enough!"

They both turn to find Donna standing at the bottom of the corridor, looking appropriately pissed off. Taking a breath and taking a step back, Harvey meets her unwavering stare with one of his own; he's not taking anything back tonight.

She blinks and swallows, giving her head a small shake. He gets it. Walking away from Kessler, he heads towards the lobby.

"I think I've had enough of the festivities for one night," his fingers tug at the cuff of his suits sleeve as he passes her. "I'll see you next week."

.

He's just stepped outside and is tucking his scarf inside his overcoat when he hears her behind him.

"What the hell is your problem?"

He turns around to see Donna walking through the revolving door to catch up with him and he's just the right amount of drunk that he embraces it. He's been gunning for a fight for hours.

He's been gunning for a fight for months.

He stops, asking, "What if I was?"

"What?"

"What if I was," he comes closer, his stride purposeful. "Staking a claim."

"You're drunk."

"No, I'm sick and tired," he takes a step closer. "Of skirting around the issue."

"And what issue would that be, Harvey?" she challenges. "Me having the audacity to have a life that doesn't involve you?"

"Well, Donna, you know what," he shrugs petulantly, "It could have been worse. At least I didn't kiss you."

Anger flashes in her eyes. "You're a dick, Harvey, you know that."

He shrugs, "You're not the first person to tell me that tonight."

"Scottie always was a woman after my own heart."

"No, she wasn't. And neither was Zoe and it certainly wasn't Paula." He is so tired of her bullshit. "You pretended they were, but they weren't."

He can see that's struck a nerve. "Just like you were okay with all the guys I've dated?" she points out, thumb to the hotel behind her. "Just like you're okay with Thomas. That whole fiasco inside, I guess that's you giving us your blessing."

"I'm not giving you my blessing, Donna." He fixes her with a hard stare; he thinks it affects her, but it's been so hard to tell recently. It's been so hard to tell, in general. "Because Paula is off the table and Scottie is off the table, and both somehow ties straight back to you."

She's shaking her head, "Is this what this is about? You're having trouble getting laid tonight?"

"I'm having trouble getting laid, period." He walks away from her, getting some space. Turning back around, he tells her what he's wanted to tell her for months. "You may have found out what you needed to know that night, but you know what? So did I," he shrugs. "And now here you are, moving on with this Kessler guy, and I'm still stuck in your goddamn office, kissing you back!" His palms drop to his sides.

That does affect her, he can tell that much, by the way her breath catches and her face freezes, and he might as well have told her she knows he loves her, because that's exactly what he's reminded of.

It's possible he's drunker than he thought. It's possible he's more desperate than he thought.

"Harvey," she says, taking a tentative step closer, his name sad on her lips.

And that wasn't his intention. He doesn't want to be the cause of that, the unhappy note in her voice, the pitying look on her face. Maybe that should be his New Year's resolution.

He needs to stop picking at this particular wound and just let it heal already.

Letting out a deep breath, he closes the distance between them. His voice is much softer when he says, "I hope he deserves you, Donna, I really do. He's a lucky man." His smile is wry as he presses his lips to her cheekbone. "Goodnight, Donna."

Ray is waiting for him at a discreet distance and he nods his gratitude as he gets in the car. He is determined not to look back.

He's ending this year the way he's started it, alone, because when all is said and done, no amount of Scotties and Paulas amount to Donna.

Looking out of the tinted window of the limo, at the drunk and the happy, he thinks about all he never did. The fact he never made his move feels anything but irrelevant now.

Feels like a wasted life.

.

tbc in part II