AN: Hey there, dear readers! I had this one-shot in my head and just had to write it to get rid of it. We're getting in our DeLoreans and find ourselves in the early to mid-nineties, when Harvey is in his first year of Harvard Law, and Donna is in her senior year of Yale Drama School. Let's see how they'll meet, shall we?

Smitten

Harvey wasn't particularly looking forward to the evening ahead of him. Strike that, he thought all lawyer-like, he wasn't looking forward to the event, but he was looking forward to his company. His girlfriend of six weeks, Scottie, had persuaded him to meet halfway between New York and Boston. Harvey had his finals already behind him, so he had headed to the city to earn a couple of bucks in the mailroom of Gordon, Schmidt and Van Dyke. Scottie had one last final the following Monday, but felt secure enough to have one night out. It was closing night of a play her friend was in after all. They had met at Yale as undergrads, but Scottie had gone to Harvard Law School.

So, there he was, standing in front of Union Station in New Haven, leaning against his dad's car. Gordon was nice enough to let his oldest son borrow it for the night. Harvey wasn't that much into theater, but it was early in their relationship, and he wanted to see Scottie before she would go to the Bahamas the following week. Scottie exited the red brick building, dressed in a simple yet elegant summer dress. They hugged and kissed hello, and off they were in the direction of the Iseman Theater.

30 minutes later, Harvey was checking his watch when his eyes dropped to the empty seat next to him. Scottie wanted to wish her friend good luck before the play started. He was bored already. He spotted her figure making her way back to their seats.

"So?" he asked with a hint of annoyance.

"Asshole didn't let me backstage," she shrugged.

Harvey smiled slightly.

"What?" she asked.

"They have security at a students' play?" he said, confirmed in his views of this shithole of a school.

"This is Yale Drama School, Harvey, not community college. Besides, they probably wanna leave the actors in peace before the play. I can talk to her later anyway. We're having drinks afterwards."

Harvey rolled his eyes. Was it too much to ask to leave him in peace? And was is too much to expect to spend the evening alone with his girlfriend when they wouldn't be able to see each other for the following six weeks?

"I saw that," commented Scottie on his reaction.

The smile he gave her was apology enough. The lights were dimmed down, and the curtain opened soon afterwards.

Scottie watched the play intently, her eyes widening in joy as she observed the scene in front of them. Harvey tried to get into the rhythm of Shakespearean English, something he hadn't had to do for a good handful of years. If he had anything to say, he'd much preferred to take Scottie to a small bar or jazz club. His last name always granted him access to the good ones. With some persuasion, he could even imagine swaying to the music with her. But sitting next to her in an overcrowded and stuffy theater in New Haven of all places wasn't exactly his idea of a perfect night together. He sighed, closed his eyes briefly and rubbed his brow with his hand.

When he raised his eyes back to the stage, an actress caught his eye.

"Who's that?" he whispered to Scottie.

"It's definitely not her!" she hissed.

"Who?" he asked her in a hushed tone.

"Christy!" Scottie replied a bit too loudly. People started turning their way.

"Christy who?" he said a bit more calmly.

"Christy Kiff, my friend who was supposed to play Ophelia!"

"Her name is Christy Kiff?" he asked with a smile.

"Harvey!" she scolded him.

"Just saying. Maybe get some variation on your vowels when you name your child..." he mumbled.

"She's not here, and you make fun of her name?" she said furiously, yet in a hushed tone.

"Scottie..."

But she got up before he could finish.

"Wait!" he whispered.

"I have to see what is going on. Don't follow me!" she ordered loud enough for some of the other people in the audience to hear, and off she was.

Harvey's eyes were glued to the stage, where Christy Kiff's understudy did a hell of a job. She was dressed in period clothing, her long red hair flowing with every move she made. Redheads weren't usually his type, but Harvey was absolutely mesmerized by her appearance. After a couple minutes Scottie returned.

"And?"

"He again didn't let me backstage."

"Want me to try my luck?"

"As if you'd get in..."

"Wanna bet?" he smirked.

"Loser pays the winner drinks."

"Deal," said Harvey and got up to walk to the side of the stage.

He made his way to the front of the theater, and had to suppress a chuckle when he saw the "security" guy who hadn't let Scottie pass. It was a skinny guy his age, obviously dressed for the occasion, wearing neon yellow pants and a black mesh shirt.

"Hey, man," greeted Harvey the gate keeper.

"Hello, handsome," the guy beamed.

"Listen, could you do me a favor and ask someone why we see Ophelia's understudy tonight?"

"Why?"

"Because the actual Ophelia is my cousin and I was meant to pick her up after the play to take her to our grandparents'. Now she's not here, and I don't know what happened."

The guy nodded and stepped aside. "I can make an acception for a cutie pie like you."

"Thanks, man," said Harvey and had to grin to himself. No wonder Scottie didn't get in...

He walked up the stairs and slipped in next to the heavy velvet curtain. He scanned the hectic backstage area for a moment before he spotted a flash of red hair to his right. His feet carried him towards her without his consent. He cleared his throat when he neared her.

"Ophelia?"

The redhead looked his way. She looked confused, and somehow preoccupied. Who could blame her? After everything that had happened in the previous 24 hours, she was nervous, giddy, and had an incredibly bad conscience all at the same time.

"Yes?" she turned around and looked into a pair of very trustful, brown eyes.

"I'm sorry to bother you in the midst of this play. My friend and I came to see Christy Kiff, and we were surprised to see you."

"I'm her understudy," she said. She noticed she liked the rest of the face of his face, too.

"I figured..." he said and nervously tucked both of his hands in the back pockets of his jeans.

"Christy had an emergency, so I filled in."

"Oh, thanks. You must be thrilled," he said and gave her a genuine smile.

"Not exactly..." she said and her mind drifted off. She was hoping she could some day forget what had happened or at least stop blaming herself for it.

Harvey didn't know what was going on with her, but he didn't think she behaved that way simply because she had forgotten her lines.

"I'm sorry, but I'm about to go back out, so..."

"Sure, sorry again. Good luck."

"Thank you."

"I'm Harvey, by the way."

"Thank you, Harvey," she nodded and gave him the faintest of smiles.

"You're welcome," he mumbled, but she had already left.

Harvey sighed, and slowly walked back to his seat. In that moment he noticed his heartrate slowing down. He had no idea what it was, but the red-haired beauty made him nervous, giddy, and all sorts of things he'd rather not be. He sat back down next to his girlfriend, who looked at him expectantly.

"Well?" Scottie asked impatiently.

"Your friend had an emergency."

"What kind of emergency?"

"She didn't say."

"She?"

"Her understudy."

"Didn't you ask her?" she asked him in a tone that bordered on annoyance.

"Scottie, she's in the middle of a play. She had to get back on stage," he reasoned.

Scottie shook her head in disbelief. She knew Harvey wasn't exactly thrilled to be here with her, but he was almost rude. They watched the play in silence. Harvey glanced in her direction a couple times. His eyes were mostly glued to the stage though. He wished he could pinpoint what it was about the actress that attracted him. Maybe it was the stark contrast between her role and her real personality. He guessed she was nervous. It was closing night and she was the understudy who had to prove to herself, to her teachers and fellow students that she belonged on that stage. That she could be as good if not better than Christy Kiff. He still couldn't get over that name.

Before he knew it, the curtain closed for intermission. Harvey looked to his right only to find the seat empty. He turned around to look for Scottie, but he didn't see her anywhere. Maybe she had gone to the bathroom. He walked to the restrooms to wait for her. After five minutes, however, she still hadn't come out. When a blonde student walked by him, he stopped her.

"Excuse me, could you do me a huge favor?"

"Sure," she smiled.

"Could you go back and see if a brunette called Dana is still in there?"

"Your girlfriend?"

"Yes. I lost her," he mumbled, unsure of the dimensions of his statement.

The blonde nodded and turned back around. After a minute she returned with a shrug and a shake of her head.

Shit. Harvey ran out of the theater. Maybe Scottie went back to his car. When he rounded the corner, he saw her leaning against the wall by the stage entrance, right where he had parked his car.

"Scottie. I was looking for you!" he exclaimed as he jogged up to her.

"Really? I was here the whole time."

"What do you mean, the whole time?"

"I came out here after the second act. And you didn't even notice me leaving."

"I was watching the play!" he said defensively.

"You hate plays!" she exclaimed.

"And I still came here to see you."

"Which you didn't. But you were clearly seeing her," she said accusatorily.

"Her?" he asked with a knitted brow.

"Ophelia!"

"Scottie..."

"No Harvey! You were practically ogling her while you were here with me. And then I didn't even get an ounce of compassion for my friend's emergency. I'm worried about her, and you don't give a shit!"

"That's not true."

"Then why didn't you offer to drive me to her apartment? Or to her parents' house? Anywhere."

"Why didn't you say so? I'm not a mind reader," he said defeatedly.

"Maybe I thought you'd offer if you cared enough about me."

"I care about you."

"Just not more than you care about yourself," she accused him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I know that something's not right, OK? You've been acting weird lately. And you don't talk about it."

He looked to the ground for a second. "Some things are hard for me to voice."

"Don't I know it..."

"What?"

"Nothing," she waved it off.

"Oh, you can blame me for not talking about things but then do the exact same thing?"

"Yes."

"You know what? Maybe this isn't working," he responded.

"I guess not."

Harvey was shocked for a moment, and his face clearly showed it. Part of him wanted to backpedal, while the bigger part wanted to agree with everything Scottie had said. He was ogling the redhead on stage, and he cared more about himself than he did for his girlfriend. Plus, he hadn't been open about what was going on with his parents. He gnawed on the inside of his cheek in thought.

"I'm sorry, Scottie."

"Me, too."

"You want me to give you a ride to her house?" he offered.

"Thanks, but I wanna be alone right now."

He nodded. "Take care."

They hugged. "You too, Harvey."

Scottie walked away and he exhaled through his nose. He didn't know what to do. Go back to the city? He pushed himself off his car, and went back inside the theater. The least he could do was watch the play, and maybe clear his head. He found his seat, and soon the play continued.

By the time the fourth act rolled around, he was sure Ophelia had spotted him in the crowd. What was wrong with him? He had just broken up with his girlfriend, and he wasn't even that sad about it. And on top of that he was mesmerized by another woman. He was certain she was a pretty good actress, too. She stole every scene she was in and at times had him on the edge of his seat.

After another hour the play was over and the ensemble got standing ovations. Again, he found himself unsure about what to do next. Should he wait for her? He shook his head to no one but himself. She would probably go out to celebrate with the other students. He slowly made his way through the crowd and back to his car then. He opened the door and sat down, but couldn't bring himself to start the engine yet. His first impulse was to wonder what had gone wrong. But he wasn't so sure it had gone wrong, really. He didn't know if Scottie was right for him. She most certainly wasn't after tonight. If she had been, why was he so shaken by the appearance of another woman? He sighed and stuck the key in the ignition. When the engine roared to life, he saw her come out of the stage entrance. Quickly, he killed the engine and got out of his car.

Donna was glad to leave every reminder of that awful night behind: costume, make-up, atmosphere.

"Ophelia," he heard himself yell after her.

She turned around. She was dressed in jeans and a simple white top. Her long, red hair down and wavy, her stage make-up gone. "It's you again."

"Yeah. I really enjoyed the play. That was a hell of a performance from you," he beamed as he caught up with her.

"That's so nice, thank you," she smiled almost shyly as she recognized the man from before.

"Harvey," he said and pointed to his chest.

"I remember," she smiled.

"I'm not a theater guy, but I must say, you really managed to give that old thing some new life," he told her, his voice sounding weird to him.

"Thanks. I think. You seem a bit distraught," she remarked.

"Do I? It's been a weird day."

"I'll say..."

His brow furrowed. "Why? What happened?"

"Let's just say I'm not sure if the stage is something for me after all," she said. Why did she tell this stranger something so personal?

Her statement baffled Harvey. After that performance she was in doubt? "Let me assure you it looked like a natural fit from where I was sitting."

"Sixth row, stage right?"

He smiled at her then. So she had seen him, and he wasn't imagining things. "I caught your eye then?"

Was he flirting with her? She didn't know how to respond.

"Because you caught mine," he added confidently.

"Uh-huh. Why?" she asked, sounding almost incredulous to him.

"Your beautiful hair for once."

She scoffed.

"What?" he asked her.

"I got mocked for it for most of my life."

"Why?"

"Pippi Longstocking say anything to you?"

"Kids can be cruel."

"So can adults."

"You can say that again," he said and fell silent for a moment. He tried not to stare at the beauty opposite him, but he wasn't always succeeding. He was drawn to her and he had no logical explanation for it.

"So, Harvey. Do you go to school here?" she broke the silence.

"No, I go to Harvard Law."

"So you're the enemy," she stated coolly.

"Apparently."

"Go Bulldogs," she teased.

"Do I have to get the crucifix?" he offered in mocked seriousness.

"Maybe. What brings you here then, besides being founding and sole member of my fan club?"

He chuckled. She did have confidence after all. And a quick wit. "I came here with someone. But she left."

"Girlfriend?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Not anymore."

"Ouch. You broke up tonight?" Donna wondered.

"Yeah, right where you're standing."

"Theater brings its rejections," she nodded knowingly.

Harvey smiled again. Her mood was the opposite from earlier when he met her backstage.

"Do you wanna go have something to eat perhaps?" he asked and gave her a killer smile.

How could she turn him down? "Sure. There's a great diner around the corner."

"Lead the way," he requested.

When they found a booth in a secluded area in the diner, Harvey finally dropped the big question.

"In the capacity of president of your fan club, would you mind telling me your name? I'd hate to call you Ophelia all night," he said almost sheepishly.

She smiled. A genuine smile. "Donna."

Harvey didn't know many foreign languages, but he knew that Donna meant "woman" in Italian. And woman she was. After talking to her for a longer time, he saw parts of her he had seen in her performance already. She had a slightly different voice without the English accent of course, but the facial expressions and how she held her hands were similar.

"Why did you break up with your girlfriend tonight?" she asked.

"Why didn't you go celebrate with the rest of your cast?" he asked at the same time.

"You first," she insisted.

"Well, she suspected I was kinda preoccupied. And distracted. By someone," he confessed and let it hang in the air for a moment. His look left little room for interpretation regarding the source of said distraction.

Her cheeks reddened a tiny bit at his admission, then Donna quirked her eyebrow before she answered the question he had asked her. "I didn't feel like celebrating, because I don't like how I got to understudy for Christy."

"How?"

Donna cleared her throat. She clearly was uncomfortable now. "I, uh, I really wanted my chance, and I even wished something happen to her."

The penny dropped. Christy's emergency.

"You didn't kill her, did you?" he smiled.

"No, but her father died yesterday," Donna told him with a serious facial expression.

"Donna, that's hardly your fault," he said with a slight shake of his head.

"Isn't it?"

"No."

"But I had these thoughts, Harvey. I wanted something to happen to her so I could play her role. I wished someone ill for my own success. I'm aware that you don't know me, but that's so not me. On the contrary. I tend to make sure everyone else is doing fine before I think about my own happiness. And when acting brings out such an ugly side of me, I really don't wanna act. At least not professonally."

Harvey pondered what she said for a moment. He then shook his head. "I don't think that would happen to you again. Have you listened to what you just said to me? You showed compassion, loyalty and awareness. Besides, your acting was better than anyone else's on stage tonight."

She smiled broadly, leaned forward and whispered. "You're the president of my fan club, I think you're biased."

Her statement had him chuckle and doubled his heartrate. What was she doing to him? She showed a degree of confidence that didn't match her self-doubt. He was fascinated, to say the least. He held her gaze, but they were interrupted by the waitress soon after. They ordered and chatted about this and that. When their burgers arrived, they dug in. Harvey hadn't eaten since lunch, and Donna not since breakfast.

She enjoyed his company a lot. She thought he was funny, smart, charming, and most importantly, he was interested in her in a genuine way. She could normally rely on her gut, and he didn't come across as someone who only sweet-talked her to get her in bed. But she also remembered his comment about his girlfriend breaking up with him because he was staring at her on stage. His tone of voice when he made that comment about adults wouldn't leave her alone, so she had to ask him about it.

Donna swallowed a bite of her cheeseburger and took a sip from her soda before she spoke. "Can I ask you something personal?"

A hint of panic on his face, he nodded wordlessly.

"You said something earlier about adults being cruel. How did you mean that?"

Harvey's eyes scanned the room behind her. They were relatively alone. He swallowed. He normally would never share this, but she somehow made him feel at ease. "I've never actually talked to anyone about this. Not even my brother." Hell, it played a huge part in why I broke up with Scottie two hours ago.

She nodded in anticipation. Donna saw he had diffculty with what he was about to say and she regretted putting him on the spot like that. Should she take his hand? She decided against it, they had just met after all. But somehow she felt like hugging the handsome stranger sitting across from her.

He cleared his throat. "When I was little, I caught my mom with someone. At our house, while she was married to my dad. She made me keep her secret. And I did, for a very long time. A month ago I couldn't keep it anymore, because she still was cheating on my dad. I told him, and my parents split up."

Harvey looked and sounded pained when he told her about it. Donna took a deep breath and exhaled before she opened her mouth. She knew a thing or two about being let down by a parent.

"I may not know how you feel exactly, but I know all about the disappointing parent. My dad lost all the family money and we had to move and downsize."

"How old were you?"

"13. You?"

"11."

"This is harsh."

"I know."

"Have you spoken to her?"

"To my mom? No. And I never will. Not after everything she put me through. I kept her secret for over a decade. I feel like I betrayed my father. How could she do this to me?" Harvey asked, his eyes glossy and his voice hoarse.

Donna couldn't help but take his hand now. He clearly was suffering, and if she understood what he had said, he never told anyone about this. Not even his now ex-girlfriend. She touched the back of his hand with her palm and gently squeezed it before she let it go. She gave him a reassuring smile and the tiniest of winks.

"Never say never, Harvey."

"I'll never talk to her. Nor will I ever see her again."

"She's your mother. It seems inevitable."

"How can you know that?"

Her expression turned serious again. "I know that everyone has to make their own experiences, but I've come to know that for every child there comes the day when you start seeing your parents' real self. Not the heroes we see them as when we're little, but the flawed humans they are, that everyone of us is. And the sooner you'll accept that, the sooner you can come to terms with it. Parents aren't perfect, no one is. We can judge them for it, or we can love them with all their flaws, just like they love us with all our flaws."

Harvey took in what she said, stayed silent for a moment, but then had to grin. "Are you sure you're not a philosophy major?"

"Nope. I have a full scholarship for drama school."

"Wow! Seems like a waste not to focus on acting then..." he mumbled. Harvey knew how to talk to an artsy person with a fragile ego. After all, he grew up as the son of a painter and a musician.

"I have many talents. One is giving unsolicited advice. You should talk to your brother about it, Harvey. He's the one who is in the same exact situation, minus the secret keeping of course. I'm sure he feels as awful as you do."

Harvey nodded slowly. "Maybe he does."

The two of them continued to eat their food in relative silence.

After a while, he broke the silence. "Can I ask you something personal?"

"Now you ask? What have we been doing this whole evening?" she smiled.

"Have you forgiven your dad?"

"I have. It wasn't easy, but I love my father. He's always had faith in me, so I put my trust in him. I hope whenever I'm in trouble, he'll grant me the same courtesy."

"I don't know how you do it, Donna. This seems unmanageable for me. I just, uh, I don't know how I can ever trust my mom after everything that's happened."

"Give it time. It hasn't happened for me in a day, or a week. It took months before I got over the shock of it all. My parents even separated over it, but they never divorced. I had to kiss my piano goodbye. But I still managed to forgive him. As I said, parents are humans, too. They make mistakes."

He admired her for being so gracious and forgiving, even of behavior he couldn't excuse. "I get that, but the stakes are higher when you have a family to care for."

"True. But you talked about never seeing her again. When you picture yourself in ten or twenty years, can you imagine a life without your mom?"

He held her gaze as he tried to imagine the scenario. "I honestly don't know. I've been dragged along for too long."

"Maybe you have. I imagine it was hard for your mother as well. I'm sure she doesn't feel too great about it. Don't forget other people's perspective on things. That's how we get careless and heartless."

"You seem to be very in touch with your emotions," he remarks, deeply impressed by what she's told him so far.

"I'm an actress, I have to be. When you prepare for a role, you have to analyze everyone in order to make it work for you, to justify everyone's actions. So I involuntarily started doing it for people I'm not in a play with."

"So? What about me?"

She pondered for a moment. "To me, you seem like a very proud guy who likes to be in control, but can seem egotistical in the process because you might forget what others want."

"Ouch."

"You're also very caring, which you confuse for a weakness, but it is in fact your biggest strength. When someone of your caliber fights for the right cause? There better not be anyone in the way."

"That sounds more like it," he said and gave her a one-sided smile.

"On top of that you're sensitive, and when someone's in your heart, they're there forever," she finished her analysis.

What Donna didn't know was that she was just about all the way there, on the way to his heart. Harvey slightly shook his head as he took in what she had said. She was dead on the money, and she barely knew him. Was he so easy to read? Or was he just easy to read for her? Everything seemed so easy with her. Hours before he was fighting like crazy to make it work with Scottie, and now he was trying to figure out how to not fall for the woman in front of him. She possessed an emotional intelligence he couldn't believe.

"Donna?"

"Hm?"

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"Not at the moment, no."

"Can I ask you out on a proper date? If you'll have me?"

"I'd like that," she smiled.

He smiled broadly, gave her a nod and finished his soda. He didn't want the night to end just yet though. He felt tired by the day's events, yet exhilarated by her company.

"Do you want dessert?" he offered in a lame attempt to prolong the evening.

"I don't know if there's enough room in my stomach, but maybe we can split one?"

As the two of them shared the brownie and vanilla ice cream, Harvey noticed the smaller things about Donna. From her slender, long fingers that seemed perfect for playing the piano, to the way she only seemed to like her brownie with a bit of ice cream and not each component of the dessert separately.

When they were finished and had paid the bill, Harvey asked almost sheepishly, "Can I give you a ride home?"

Donna agreed. She was tired. It had been a long 24 hours. She felt she deserved a good night's sleep, and she wasn't looking forward to walking all the way home. They didn't really talk during the ten minute drive aside from her giving him directions. Donna lived close to the Botanical Garden, a neighborhood she treasured. It wasn't too close to campus, yet not too far away either. She loved taking walks in the garden when she was learning her lines for plays, or just to enjoy the flora.

Harvey parked his dad's car, and got out to say goodbye. They found themselves standing in front of her door, neither of them sure how to behave or what to say.

Donna smiled. "I had a great time, Harvey."

"Me too," he said and gave her a lopsided grin.

She started rummaging through her purse. After a moment she produced a scrap of paper on which she scribbled her phone number. When she took his hand to give him the piece of paper, he swore he felt a jolt run through his body. He took the paper, but didn't let go of her hand. He looked into her eyes and searched for signs of protest, and when he only found reassurance and interest, he gently pulled her closer to him. Her breath tickled his chin before his free hand found her face.

"You stunned me today," he mumbled, his eyes glued to her face. "You're stunning."

She first swallowed, then wet her lips with her tongue, directing even more of his attention to her mouth. Her heart nearly thumped out of its confines when she felt his fingers move across her face, before they gently traced her lips. Harvey stepped even closer to her, increasing their body contact tenfold. Her left hand in his right, she ran her right one up his arm before it stopped on his shoulder and she pulled him towards her.

"Kiss me," she whispered when their lips were practically touching.

Tentative at first, their kiss grew more passionate by the second. Harvey didn't want to rush things, he had broken up with someone just hours ago. But he found it hard to control himself. When she granted him full access to her mouth, they soon were interrupted by a loud thud. They separated for air when Donna noticed she had dropped her purse.

"Maybe this means we should call it a night," she said as she knelt down to pick it up. He beat her to it.

"Geez, what do you carry around with you?" he commented on the weight of the bag as he handed it back to her.

"Oh, this and that. Basically everything I'd need to spontaneously leave the country," she deadpanned.

He chuckled as he handed the purse back to her. He pressed another chaste kiss to her lips. "I'll call you."

"Looking forward to it," she replied with a smile.

When Donna was inside her apartment she found herself leaning against the door, her entire body tingling and some sense of normalcy returning to her after that mind-blowing kiss. Her lips were still swollen. She couldn't remember a more pleasant evening she had ever spent with a stranger on a quasi-date. She slowly walked into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. She changed into her pajamas when she heard her phone ring and involuntarily checked her watch. 11.43PM.

"Hello?"

"Too soon?" she recognized his voice.

"Harvey! No, it's not too soon. Where are you?"

"New Haven."

"I figured..."

"I just realized that I hadn't wished you a good night," he almost whispered.

"Seems pretty careless," she agreed with a wide smile.

"I thought so. So... Good night, Donna," Harvey said. Which caused her to have goosebumps all over her body.

"Night, Harvey."

"Sweet dreams," he said with a voice like honey.

They hung up, and Donna was pretty sure she wasn't going to get much sleep that night.

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