Superman Ain't Got Nothing On Me

Category: Darvey Established/Romance/Hurt Comfort

Summary: They're going to spend a lifetime worrying about each other which is normal considering they're committed to forever. Aka four times Donna's stubbornness leaves Harvey reeling and one time his own has the same effect. (darvey established)

AN: I've been severely lacking in the muse department lately but protective Harvey is always my goto haha. I just needed to put some words down so here they are :P It's five chapters in total. I was going to make it a one-shot but it was taking too long and I was worried it was going to end up in my seemingly endless folder of drafts XD

I.

He checks his watch for the hundredth time, the storm hammering outside driving the whiskey in his hand up with a sharp movement.

Donna should be here by now.

It's been nearly an hour since she called to say she was getting a cab (37 minutes, to be exact).

He's assuming traffic is heavy due to the rain but each tick of the second-hand glares back at him, mocking the rational explanation. He should have insisted on having Ray pick her up. There isn't a driver in the city he trusts more but her stubborn refusal won out over his hesitant concern. True, they would have been dragging the man out in a blizzard but he's certain Ray would have jumped in the car, engine revving.

She has that influence over people, drawing them in with her warm open heart, and he's seen it even more now they're dating.

The young brunette who gives her a free coffee every Tuesday, the cranky rounded woman at the dry-cleaners who -in spite of giving his own secretary shit- rushes Donna's dresses at no extra charge... and last week he met her building maintenance manager, Rod. The burly guy brings up her mail on a Friday because it's 'no hassle' just an extra three floors out of his way. It's like that almost everywhere they go and he rummages through the mental snapshots he's been sneaking, a small smile stirring around the corners of his worry. He's known Donna for 13 years but never like this, not as his girlfriend, and a warmth spreads through him until another minute steals the appreciation from his lips.

For all her endearing qualities, the hell if she isn't goddamn stubborn.

A clap of thunder startles the drink in his grasp, amber liquid splashing over the sides, and he sets it down with a ragged sigh. She should be here; safe, wrapped up with him on the sofa not out in The Poseidon Adventure, and paranoia fuels the reach toward his phone.

No messages.

No missed calls.

Hardly a shock given the screen's been dark since she hung up and he's debating whether to call again when the sudden jingle of keys sends a jolt of relief rushing through him. He plays it off quickly, knowing she'll tease him mercilessly for overrating, and pushes up kicking his feet toward the kitchen. "I was starting think you'd forgotten the address-" he throws out jokingly, hearing a groan followed by two soft thuds as her shoes hit the floor. By the sound of things she's in need of a drink herself and his hand hesitates at the overhead cabinet. "Whiskey or wine?"

A choked 'whiskey' meets his ears and amusement twitches his mouth. If she's asking for the hard stuff over Chardonnay it must have been bad out there and he pulls down a second glass, tipping the bottle so there's a decent amount of alcohol to warm her up.

She rounds the corner a moment later, dripping with water and stopping so she doesn't traipse the mess across his polished floorboards. Thanks to a burst pipe re-routing the traffic her driver had warned it could take up to an hour before they moved and she'd decided to chance the harsh conditions. It had seemed like a good until the cold had seeped in, unrelenting and bitter as she'd carried herself closer to his apartment.

She can barely feel her fingers or toes anymore, stammering over the request for a towel.

He lifts his gaze at the stutter his relief vanishing at the drenched state of her. She's soaked though, dark hair plastered against pale skin and trembling beneath several layers of wet clothing.

"Jesus," he exclaims, dropping their tumblers with a heavy clink, "what the hell did you do, walk the eight blocks?"

She winces, unable to control the shivers racking her body now she's inside the warmth of his condo. All she'd wanted to do was get home to him and she bites her lip sheepishly, dipping her head away from his advance. "F... four."

The answer doesn't do anything to stem his anger, irritation tangling around his concern. She should have waited it out, in the very least called so he could have met her halfway but he tries to reign in the knee-jerk reaction. He can scold the recklessness later. Right now she needs to get dry and he cups his fingers over her shoulders with a gentle tug, "come on... before you catch pneumonia."

She doesn't follow, her stocking clad toes digging in and squelching the water already pooled by her feet. It may seem stupid but she's utterly exhausted and doesn't want to have to clean up the mess later. Though she struggles to relay the concern through her numb lips, "I should... d... dry off first."

Her gaze is entirely serious, fraught with worry, and god help him- her stubbornness is going to be the death of him one day.

"Donna... shower, now-" he orders not giving a damn about the apartment but knowing her like he does, she'll freeze to death arguing about it and he winds behind her back placing his palm against her damp coat.

She relents, only because he clearly isn't going to take no for an answer, and moves as quickly as her body will allow into his en-suite, huddling by the sink as he turns on the spray. Before she can even think about undressing herself he's already started the task, peeling off the icy layers one by one and moving his hands across her body leaving fire-like sparks in their wake. It's not enough to banish the cold but it stirs something inside her and she stops him, her movements uncoordinated and fumbling as she tries to pull up his sweater.

He gets it, a small smirk breaking his composure as he takes over removing the item along with the rest of his clothes. He really shouldn't be indulging her but the last fleeting waves of annoyance disappear as he wraps around her naked frame, ushering them into the steaming shower. She stops shivering almost immediately, her pale freckled skin turning bright red under the heat and he nestles his mouth against the crook of her neck with a small sigh, "better?"

She leans her head back tiredly -all the answer she can apparently muster- and he chuckles softly, accepting the invitation and trailing his lips down while futilely whispering that next time she should try having more patience. She won't, he knows that... because as much as he wishes she'd stayed in the damn cab, this is exactly where she's supped to be.

At home, with him- riding the storm out together.