Chapter 2! A few more scenes for you :)

Louis had asked her if she loves Harvey. She's been thinking about it all afternoon. It's complicated, her relationship with Harvey. She's thought about it time and time again; what would have happened if he hadn't asked her to come to Pearson Hardman with him. But she knows he hadn't been ready for what she had wanted with him then. Years of introspection have led her to that conclusion and while she's glad she can make her peace with it, she does wonder often what that life would have been like.

She knows deep down that if he wanted to be with her she'd drop everything and run to him. She loves him so deeply that she couldn't bear to be without him. The last two weeks away from him have been hard. But she's been fuelled by her anger toward him.

She would do anything for him, and she did exactly that and was fired for it. And he didn't fight for her. Not like he did for Mike. Not like he would have done for Jessica. Their relationship has always been one-sided. And most of the time she doesn't mind, forgets it, even. But when he pulls shit like this, she questions why she even sticks around. Why she bothers to give him everything and get nothing in return.

She's been fighting tooth and nail to forget about him. She was fired, she doesn't work for him, he doesn't want to be with her, and they were never really friends. So she knows the only way to move on is to forget about him.

And yet, she hasn't had the inclination to look for a new job. A part of her is hoping he'll come to his senses, bring her back. But the more time that passes, the more that possibility melts away.

She's been sitting in this bar for two hours. She's declined three drinks from three men who think they can get into her pants. She almost chuckles out loud when she thinks how wrong they are. Sex is the last thing on her mind right now. She's full of rage. At Louis, for bringing up that shit, at Harvey, for jumping in at the worst possible moment, at Mike, for convincing her to come to the fucking stupid mock trial in the first place.

She throws back the remainder of her martini and pushes the glass aside. The bartender looks at her and she shakes her head. She's had too many already and another may just push her off an emotional cliff. She slides off the bar stool and strides smoothly to the exit. She's always been proud of her ability to stay steady on her feet, no matter how high her heels, or her blood alcohol level.

She hails a cab and spits out her address, sitting back against the black leather seat and closing her eyes briefly. His face swims into view in her head and she sighs in annoyance. She really can't catch a break right now. All she can see is his face as he watched Louis question her. His expression; half desperate and half terrified to hear whether she loves him.

"Rough night?" The cabbie asks and she opens her eyes again to meet his in the rear view mirror.

"Rough day," she replies, and for some unknown reason she suddenly wants to tell this stranger everything. "I'm trying to move on from someone and I had to see him today and it just…" she sighs, "it didn't go well."

"Sorry to hear that," the cabbie says, and maybe it's because she's drunk, but he sounds genuine.

"Thank you. I know it's better for me to move on, because he'll never be the man I need, but it hurts, you know?"

"My wife left me last year," the cabbie says with a shrug. "I'm still not over her. I guess it just takes time."

"I'm sorry," she replies.

The cabbie shrugs again. "Like you, I know it's for the best."

"I hope you find peace soon."

"Thank you."

And just like that, the moment is over and she sits back again, staring out the windows at the darkened city streets flashing by. Harvey's face is still in her mind, and she still feels angry about what she'd been out through today. Louis, Mike, Harvey… they're all the same. They just want to win. She sighs again and the cabbie meets her eyes in the mirror but then they're pulling up on the corner of her block and so he doesn't say anything. She pays him and thanks him, leaving his car without another word; just another of millions of chance encounters in a New York City day.

When she crosses to her building and spots Mike sitting on the stoop she wishes the ground would open up and swallow her. She curses under her breath as she walks toward him. He hasn't spotted her yet.

"Are you kidding me?" She doesn't wait for an answer. "Go home. Shoo. Go the hell home."

Mike gets to his feet. "Look, I didn't know he was going to do that—"

"And if you had known, would you have done one thing differently?"

"I am so sorry."

"Bullshit. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit."

"Okay, Donna, I'm not—"

"Harvey. I know." Boy, does she know. "But you know what, sweetheart? Maybe you are. And I do not mean that as a compliment." She moves past him to the door.

"Look, I did what I did for the same reason you did what you did. To help Harvey. That's all."

"Well that worked out the same for you as it did for me. Because in case you hadn't noticed, in addition to screwing me, you completely shafted Harvey."

"We had a script."

"Wait. You trusted Louis? You trusted Louis?"

"Yeah, I thought he would stick to it, yes."

"Well he didn't. And you should have known that because that is just who he is."

"I am sorry but I—" he stops, and then laughs. She stares at him, mouth agape. What the hell could be so funny about this? "People are who they are… thank you!" He grabs his bike and she's still struggling to catch up to his train of thought, her mind sluggish with alcohol. "I can fix this!" And he's off, riding away from her while she stands in the doorway, confused as hell.

Scottie's back. Again. Somewhere along the course of her working relationship with Harvey, Donna has started to distrust Scottie. She swans into town every year or so and toys with Harvey for her own amusement. Of course he never objects, why would he? It's as much fun for him as it is for her. But the fact remains that she uses him and Donna doesn't trust her.

Scottie lies to Harvey. She's done it for years and she's doing it now. Another reason not to trust her. Donna keeps an eagle eye on her, but even with her skills and connections, she can't monitor everything. So when she finds out that Scottie has come with an ulterior motive, she's furious.

Scottie finds her in the file room that day. Donna's hackles rise at the sight of her; this is her domain, and this interloper has no business being here. It only gets worse when Scottie asks if Donna's in love with Harvey. Her head spins for a brief moment and then ire floods her body. It's none of Scottie's business what goes on between she and Harvey. It's none of Scottie's business how she feels about him, or how he feels about her. So she lies. She says no.

But she wonders what would happen if she'd said yes. If she'd told the truth; "yes, Dana. I'm in love ihr Harvey." Would it have resulted in a full-scaled cat fight with hair piling and nails scratching? Would Scottie have walked away? Would it have ended in a battle of wits or an ultimatum issued to the man in question?

She knows that Harvey loves Scottie… in a way. But she also knows they're not well-matched. They're too competitive, too hard-headed. They're not honest with each other, and they don't know how to talk about anything real.

But despite all of that, despite her feelings lying restlessly in the shallow grave she buried them in, she helps Scottie. Because she likes to see Harvey smile. And Scottie does make him smile. Sometimes. But she promises herself that when this goes pear-shaped, if it's Scotties fault… there's going to be hell to pay.

She leaves shortly after the bride and groom, feigning tiredness from the planning, but really it was the emotional roller coaster of the past few days. She's felt off-kilter without him there, and when she sees him walk into the wedding, something clicks back into place, she can breathe fully again, the air reaching deep into her lungs where it's only touched the surface since he's been gone.

When he holds hims arm out to her and she slides her hand into the crook of his elbow, she feels herself fully relax. She feels like a woman whose husband has just returned from war, and she admonishes herself for the comparison. He's been gone three days. And they're not together. His absence and subsequent return should have this much of an affect on her. But her arm in his feels like coming home. It feels safe, comfortable. It feels right.

He looks happy and relaxed, proud of his protege and friend, but she knows what's coming to him and she can't bear to watch when it does. He's always had abandonment issues, and Mike leaving isn't going to help that. Add that fact that Robert has come on board and is going to want to take Managing partner… she wants to relish in the smile on his face while it lasts.

She watches from a corner of the ballroom when the moment comes. Mike has approached him at the bar and she knows it's happening. She sees the words leave Mike's mouth and watches closely for Harvey's reaction. She's surprised when the two men hug, she'd been half-expecting anger, but he's genuinely happy for his friend and she realises again how far he's come, how much of an affect Mike has had on him, on the man he has become. When Mike walks away, called by his new wife, Donna approaches, sidling up next to her boss, her friend.

They dance together for a long time that night, hearts beating against one another, the pounding in their chests syncing up, although if pressed she'd admit that she's always known her heart beats in time with his.

She feels hot under the collar after he teases her about strawberries and cream. She hasn't been able to pair those two things together in an innocent manner in twelve years, memories swirling anytime the two words are even mentioned together, which has happened far more often than she'd have liked over the last decade.

But they'd skirted a line with that conversation. They flirt. Often. But this was something else altogether. This was more like the Harvey and Donna of old. Witticisms, banter, the back and forth that was so familiar. It hasn't been like this in a long time and the conversation has been ringing in her head all day, causing a fluttering low in her abdomen that she's tried in vain to ignore.

She's never been the type to watch porn. But what she does do is read. She's a performer, a "creative type"; she has a vivid imagination and finds herself most stimulated by erotic stories. That night she Googles a particular combination of words and thanks the internet gods for always having something for her.

The story she finds is on a site called Literotica. She's familiar with it, has read work on there before. It's a veritable treasure trove of erotic literature; something for everyone, from specific fetishes through to fan fiction through to bondage through to good old fashioned girl on girl.

She reads the tale of a couple and their strawberry and cream adventure and naturally the faces in her head are hers and Harvey's. It has the desired effect, the warmth between her thighs growing and when she slides a hand inside her underwear, she's unsurprisingly wet.

She reads the story again as she works herself closer and when she feels her climax approaching she closes her eyes, picturing Harvey thrusting inside her, remnants of sticky cream and strawberry juice sticking their skin together, his mouth tasting of the sweet red fruit.

Her climax hits her and she jerks with a low moan, Harvey's face still swimming in her minds eye as she orgasms. It's not the first time and it won't be the last; he's always been fodder for her erotic fantasies. And yet she still feels a shame burning in her, shame at not being able to tell him how she feels, not being able to let him in, let him get close to her heart for the fear he could break it, or worse, that she could break his.

Her breath hitches in her throat. The mere thought of causing him hurt like that makes her stomach turn. He's already in her heart and while she craves him in her bed, it's better like this. For now.

"Want me to pour us a drink?"

"What do you say we shake it up and make it two?" She smiles at him, returning the grin that's on his face and tries to push down the warmth she feels in her stomach.

They haven't had drinks together in a while and she's missed this part of their relationship. She can't help watching him as he takes up the decanter, pouring into the outstretched glasses. She's aware of the soft smile on her face but she doesn't care because he's smiling back at her the same way.

Not for the first time she thinks about how coupley this feels. She thinks about the rumours that have swirled around them for their entire working relationship and she knows they have merit. She's always known their relationship is special and it's always been more than a professional one. It's always been more than friendly.

It hits her then. Their relationship is a relationship. There's a reason it never works with anyone else. There's a reason all their other relationships fail. They will always be too important to one another. All they're missing is the physical, everything else is there.

The thought causes a melancholy to fill her. All they're missing is the physical. There's a kind of ache settling over her like a chill. She wants to feel his arms around her, his breath on her neck, his warmth seeping into her body. She wants it all with him.

She imagines what this could be if they really were a couple. Sitting on the couch together, her feet in his lap. Or cuddled up, his arm around her, a shared glass being passed back and forth. She wants to feel his lips pressing against her temple, his soft voice in her ear as he whispers something suggestive.

She's jolted back to reality when he asks her what she's thinking about. "Oh it's nothing," she plasters a smile on her face and taps her glass lightly against his.

"You sure?" He scrutinises her face and she shakes her head, the smile still firmly in place.

"Really, Harvey, you think I'm going to tell you all my intimate secrets?"

She sees him swallow at the word intimate, his Adam's apple bobbing sensually and she drifts off again for a moment, her thoughts not entirely pure.

"I think I've had a glimpse into your… intimate secrets… once before," he flirts back and she rolls her eyes at him. He's so easy. And so predictable.

"I was young," she shrugs innocently, "I have far more secrets these days. Some things just come with experience."

"I think we both know you're plenty experienced." Harvey gives her that look.

They're treading a fine line now. He's looking at her like she's a snack and it's causing a pulsing between her legs that she wishes she could dispel. Now isn't the time. But maybe that's why now is exactly the time. It's late, most people have gone. The work day is long over and they're just two friends catching up over a drink. In a comfortable room with soft lighting and the city lights twinkling outside. She bites the inside of her lip briefly as she thinks that they could have chosen a less poignant, less revealing location. Her office has never felt romantic before now. She takes a large gulp from her glass, feeling the burn of the scotch as it slides down her throat, warming her from the inside out. She says nothing in response to Harvey's previous comment, just gives him a look that tells him he'd better stop if he knows what's good for him. She doesn't know whether she wants him to obey the look or not.

He does obey it. He chuckles and swigs from his glass, settling onto the armchair and unbuttoning his suit jacket. She sits adjacent to him, on the sofa with her legs crossed gracefully. Their knees are mere inches apart and she almost hates herself a little for considering shifting so their legs touch. How desperate must she be for human contact that she's considering bumping her knee against him? She sips the scotch again, settling her arm along the side of the couch.

He starts talking about a case and she holds back the sigh of relief that wants to escape. This is familiar, this she can do. Listen to his work talk, make suggestions, laugh at the absurd things his client has done. This is their grounding and it flashes across her mind that maybe right now it's what he needs too.

Their situation may be messy, it may be ambiguous, it may tread and cross multiple lines. But it's theirs. And she'll always come back to it. To him. Her safe harbour. Her best friend. Her Harvey.

And there you have it. If there are scenes you want to see Donna's perspective on, feel free to suggest them to me and I'll see what I can do with them!