Somebody That I Used To Know

Category: It sounds angsty but it's mostly fluff, honest! ;)

Summary: Harvey and Donna are back in NYC for a week, and while out with their son, Harvey has a chance encounter with Paula, leading he and Donna to reexamine some old wounds.

AN: Based on a twitter prompt by babz itsbabzbabe: I want a Darvey fanfic where Harvey bumps into Paula at a park when he is with his son - all casual- and then Donna gets there and says "how are my boys?" And he asks her how are his girls when he greets her and puts his hand on her stomach.

I think this is the first fic I've written with a toddler character. I have no idea what three-year-olds are like. Assuming they can't fly or change into tigers, but if I've gotten it a bit wrong I'm sorry. I just rolled with it :P

Harvey leans back against the park bench, casually checking the time on his watch but his eyes almost instantly fall back to the young boy playing on the wooden bridge across from him.

Gordon Michael Specter is the spitting image of him, a three-year-old with courage but the sense to match, the latter a quality he inherited from his mother. He's charged to make it across the swinging planks but not like every other kid in the playground. He'll do it on his own terms, and Harvey watches, intrigued, as the tiny version of himself takes a step back off the unsteady walkway glancing around.

"You're okay buddy, I'm right here." He catches Gordon's gaze, knowing his son was probably seeking out his mother's approval instead. The same way he's done time and again over the years, and he smiles to himself. In that respect, the apple hasn't fallen far from the tree, and he angles his wrist again. Donna's running late but he was expecting her to. NYC isn't the same as Seattle. The bustle is impossible to avoid and he's in no rush. While she's working, he'd opted to take the time off, wanting to get in some quality bonding with his son before he starts preschool next year.

At home, they have a nanny who works three days a week while he and Donna alternate the other two. It's allowed them to keep working almost full time but now Gordon's getting older, he counts down until it's his turn. Early on, he'd still be answering emails or on the phone but he rarely gets his laptop out anymore. His son is his focus, and he'd gladly scale back his hours even more, but Donna cherishes the time just as much as he does, and with the changes coming their way in the next few months, he wants to let things settle before making any big decisions. Their flawless routine is going to be turned on its head with a second baby due, but he isn't worried. He and Donna are a team, and they'll figure it out, just like they always do.

"Harvey?"

A foreign voice ghosts over him, and he angles his head away from where Gordon is playing to locate the source, his muscles tensing slightly.

"Paula."

He runs his gaze down to the labrador at her feet. She'd always striked him as a cat person, but the fact is neither here nor there, and he glances back up to her polite smile, answering it with one of his own.

"I'm dog-sitting for a friend." She explains, reading his curiosity. They hadn't kept in touch after their break-up, not so much as a text, and she's interested to know where life has landed him. "How have you been?"

"Good." His mouth curves more genuinely, his attention shifting to where his son is clambering on the inside rail of the bridge, avoiding the moving parts altogether. "Really good."

Paula follows where his eyes have fallen to, her own growing slightly wide at the familiar characteristics of the boy next to them. There's no question he's somehow related to Harvey, and she would have assumed nephew if it weren't for the more matured features of the lawyer beaming with pride. She doesn't insult either of them by pretending it isn't apparent, trying to hide her shock that he's now a parent. "He looks just like you."

"Gordon's a lot smarter." He smirks, sticking his hand at the labrador and waiting for a sniff before curling his hand behind the dog's ear. "How's everything with you?" He asks, focusing his efforts on the dog. He'd told her during their break-up she deserved to find someone who could give her what she needed, and it wasn't a lie. He wasn't ready to give up Donna in any capacity and that's what she'd been asking him to do, but given how things had turned out, there's a small part of him that was wonders why she hadn't seen the depth of his feelings reflected for Donna like everyone else had. He'd denied them, and of course, that was probably part of the reason, but his insistence hadn't deterred Mike, his mother or even Louis. Maybe as his ex-therapist, she'd thought she could encourage the need out of him, but it's always been Donna, and he does genuinely hope she found what she'd been looking for, like he has

"I'm good, Harvey."

She mirrors the same words back to him, and he isn't quite sure if they're sincere or just said to placate the awkwardness, but if that's the case, he's grateful for the attempt.

"Are you... " she stops, the question on the tip of her tongue stalling as she catches the glimmer of gold on his ring finger. "Still living in the city?"

She covers the slip, the ghost of a memory from when they were talking about starting a family resting heavily behind her curiosity. He'd never mentioned marriage, and given the way his parents had separated, she'd always assumed it was off the cards.

"Living in Seattle." He confirms, giving the animal by her leg one last pet, and retracting his arm. "We moved there about a year before Gordon was born."

Hearing he left before the pregnancy surprises her. He's always been a quintessential New Yorker, but it's the 'we' that knots uncomfortably in her chest. That someone else had been able to steer him in a direction he'd always been so resistant to follow with her or anyone else. They've been over for a long time, and she's moved on, but there's still a sting from what could have been if he'd chosen to commit instead of running away.

She steals another look at Gordon, wondering about his mother. If Harvey finally managed to get over his dependency on Donna, or if-

A lump forms in her throat.

It's not her business to ask. In her professional opinion it would have been a mistake for the two of them to pursue a romantic relationship given their history. Still, her personal feelings on the matter are no longer important.

"Mom!"

Gordon's voice shrieks out, and Harvey jumps up to intercept the toddler who, like him, has a second sense for knowing when Donna is near. The kid is already running as fast as he possibly can across the playground to meet his mother, but Harvey catches his son, swooping Gordon up effortlessly and grinning broadly as his gaze falls on his wife's flustered smile.

"Sorry I'm late, one of the presentations ran over." She reaches for her son's chubby fingers, giving them a squeeze. When the opportunity for her to speak at a business workshop for international women's day had arisen, she'd been flattered by the invitation but initially hesitant. Their lives are chaotic enough with work, a three-year-old and a baby on the way, but Harvey welcomed the idea with open arms, telling her the world needed more women like her to aspire to. He'd offered to take the time off, insisted, and when she gives her speech later this week, she's going to make a point of recognizing his support, because she might not need man, but she does need him. They're partners and she steals a breath, letting go of her stress to appreciate what's right in front of her. "How are my boys doing?" She asks, shifting her attention between them.

"Someone here would make an excellent pirate." He chuffs, proud of the way their son has been navigating all the ship-like obstacles seamlessly.

She glances over his shoulder at the wooden playground, a million fears swarming in her head; splinters, nails, the height if Gordon fell. Her mind is continually conjuring up unforeseen dangers, but she instantly feels more at ease as Harvey's hand rests lightly against the swell of her stomach.

"How are both my girls doing?" He smooths his thumb over the taut fabric of her skirt, feeling underdressed in comparison. She looks immaculate, sexy as hell, even with the bouts of nausea and the early start she had to endure this morning. They'd both learned quickly that parenting clothes and work outfits don't mix, and he breathes in her perfume, utterly and completely distracted by the crease below his palm.

"Harvey."

"Hmmm." He glances up from her stomach, reading the forced smile on her lips.

Shit.

He'd completely forgotten about Paula.

He angles himself around, struggling with Gordon who immediately fusses at being directed away from his mother.

"Sorry, kid's like The Flash." He throws Paula the half-hearted apology, the tension between them reaching a new level of awkward as her gaze darts to Donna.

Not phased by the woman's shock, she steps up beside her husband, once again seeking out her son's grasp to calm him. "A handful just like his father." She quips, curving her mouth at Harvey's ex-therapist.

She isn't deliberately trying to gloat.

Maybe just a little, she decides, flashes of the night she'd resigned leaving her with mixed feelings, even though it's something they'd all left in the past a long time ago. She can't help it. Paula had all but demanded she quit her job, a position she loved, and she'd been willing to do it but for Harvey, not the blonde standing before her now. When he'd torn up her resignation, not a few hours later, it was clear; he'd chosen her, and there's no need to rub salt in the wound by showboating or making snippy comments. Instead her voice is smooth, almost genuine, as she extends an olive branch. "It's good to see you again, Paula."

"Likewise." Neither comment is particularly sincere but Paula recognizes the situation for what it is, and gathers the lead in her hand, bringing the labrador closer to her side. Guilt springs into Harvey's expression but it's fleeting and she knows why; because he's happy.

Happier than he ever was with her.

"I should really be going.

Harvey nods, not about to do anything stupid like invite her to join them.

"Congratulations by the way."

She motions to Donna's slight bump, and he swallows, saying the only thing he can think of. "Thanks."

The labrador trots along at her heel as she leaves, and he breathes a sigh of relief, shifting Gordon in his arms. He'd been prepared for a lot coming back to NYC, but bumping into his ex hadn't been one of them, and he turns to Donna with a sheepish smile. "Sorry."

She lifts her hand to smooth back their son's hair with a sigh. "Please… if I was going to worry about every ex-girlfriend, you would've been confined to the hotel room." She tries to make light of the churn in her stomach, forcing a smirk, but Paula isn't just some woman he slept with, and the thought lingers as they make their way to lunch.

It shouldn't bother her. But it does. Because after he'd ended the relationship, they'd never discussed it. Her impromptu kiss had been forgotten, the fact he'd chosen her hadn't been mentioned at all, and they'd gone about their days treating it like business as usual but the hurt leading up to his decision had been real. Returning his keys, facing his stoicism head-on daily, having him go behind her back to find a place for her that didn't involve seeing each other every day, that had all happened.

He'd apologized in his own way, by asking her to work for him again, and she'd accepted it. She's at fault as much as he is, not even sure she has a right to bring it up, but as she picks at her salad, the conversation is at the forefront of her mind, and she sets her fork down with a shaky hand.

Harvey's instantly alert to the movement, his eyes shifting from the high-chair next to them as his brows dip with concern. "Everything okay?"

She knows he's referring to the pregnancy, and guilt immediately lodges in her throat. "I'm fine." He throws her a skeptical look, and she settles her hand over her stomach forcing a smile. "She's fine. It's not that."

Relief floods through him, and he nods, glad, but still not able to completely relax. If it's not the baby then it's something else, and he doesn't need her mind-reading powers to guess it concerns his ex. "You want to talk about it." It's not a question, and he's not brimming with enthusiasm to rehash the past, but the reason they work is that they don't shy away from difficult conversations, and he tries to soften his expression, giving her the nudge they both sometimes need when they're struggling to open up. "I did some crappy things, Donna."

Shitty is what he wants to say, but he filters his language because there's a three-year-old at the table. "I was trying to run towards something I thought was safe, but the moment I realized I was going to lose you because of it, I knew I couldn't go through with it. You've always meant everything to me."

"I know that." She does, another reason she's hesitant to open old wounds. They're here, living the best version of themselves due to their past mistakes, but she's not bringing this up to reflect on the now. She's doing it for the woman who had her heart broken countless times, the person who swore she was strong even with tears clouding her vision, and so she can move on from the ghost of regret that's never entirely gone away. But if standing amongst so many smart, intelligent women today has taught her anything, it's that this isn't just about her own echo of pain, it's about being true to herself and dealing with his as well. He would never have even met Paula if she hadn't gone to work for Louis, something she doesn't regret but it's another page of their story that's been conveniently swept under the rug. "I left, and you started having panic attacks."

He flinches, the words not an accusation but a catalyst all the same, and he sets his own cutlery down, fingering the edge of the table. "Doesn't that tell you something?"

"Not when you didn't come to me about them." It's not meant maliciously. They weren't in a good place, she understands that, but they'd gone from being best friends to him treating her like a stranger. The nights she'd gone home, trying to convince herself she was better off and not utterly lost without him, had seemed endless, and they're still there buried in her memories. He'd shut her out, just like he did a year later when he'd started dating Paula, and she reaches for her water, using the glad as a distraction. "You went to her, not Jessica or even Mike. She was the person you trusted to help you, and I'm glad she could, but can you imagine how I felt when you started dating. Knowing I was losing you to someone who had been there at your lowest point, who you had more faith in than me."

Her voice wavers, and his heart clenches, having been completely unaware she'd been suffering so much at the time. It's one of the things they'd spent twelve years getting wrong, wearing a formidable mask around each other, like he did when she was with Stephen, or her claiming she loved him like a cousin. He'd forced her defensiveness with a cocky expression that day, referring to the night they'd slept together. When they'd been lying in bed, and she'd told him, two people who have had sex can never go back. She'd rendered the comment null and void because of their agreement to never mention it again, and she'd been right in the exact same way she'd been wrong.

Nothing had changed, but everything did.

They'd both put up walls around feeling anything, which had slowly been chipped at, but when they'd finally shattered he'd given himself up to her without any reservations. It doesn't mean they hadn't hurt each other in the process, and the irony is, that the times he'd found himself ignorant to her hurt, are the ones he'd been protecting himself from emotions she'd told him to lock away. He should have acted on them sooner but as he glances across at Gordon, who has a fist full of mush in his hands, the only thing he cares about is that Donna has always been his driving force, for better or worse, and he reaches across the table, finding her hand with a light squeeze. "I couldn't go to you, or anyone else, because I knew the second I did, I'd have to admit how I really felt. I wanted a quick fix, medication to keep it under control, but Paula insisted we talk and the only reason I trusted her was because I was able to be honest about you."

It's not an excuse but it is what happened, and he takes a breath, holding her gaze. "I messed up a lot. I know that. But I hope I've done an okay job making up for it."

His soft smile tugs at her heart, and she can feel her unease slowly starting to unravel. "Of course you have." Since they've been together life hasn't been perfect but it's been damn near close. Their first wedding she'd told him a hundred years together still wouldn't be enough time, and if the last few are anything to go by, a thousand wouldn't be either. "I'm sorry." Her mouth falls sheepishly, wishing it was a conversation they'd had sooner, but it needed to happen, and she doesn't regret sharing her side. "Seeing Paula reminded me of the way I felt back then. I thought you'd given up on us, that you didn't care anymore. I know we both made mistakes, but I guess I just needed to understand."

He gets it and hates that in all the times she never lost faith in him, the one moment she almost did, he was too arrogant and stuck inside his head to see it. When she'd left to work for Louis, it had felt like a punishment, and he knows now that's not what it was about, and he has the sudden urge to give her the same closure. "I cared too much, Donna. That was always the problem."

"Not always." She manages her own smile. "It got us here, didn't it?"

"Yeah," he agrees warmly, "it did."

The tenderness in his voice makes her pull back, wiping the moisture that's gathered beneath her lashes. She was the same way when she was first pregnant with Gordon, and she grins through her tears at their son. "God, I think my hormones are back."

"I wasn't going to say it." He smirks, in no way minding that they prompted the talk. She's amazed him since the day they met, but he's never had so much respect for her as he did in the nine months she was carrying Gordon. She was the one throwing up, having mood swings, eating food that made his stomach turn at the mere sight, but she'd navigated it and adapted like she always does. He was the one who'd been a wreck, though he likes to think he's handled it better the second time around. "Just so long as you don't kick me out of the apartment while we're here."

"That was one time." She defends, flushing under his grin. It hadn't really been either of their fault. As a first time father, he'd been naturally protective, but to the point he was suffocating with his worry; had she taken her vitamins, was she drinking fluids, getting enough rest, and a myriad of other concerns that had pushed her over the edge one evening.

He'd left, not wanting to stress her out more, and she'd felt terrible the second the door closed. Lucky for them Mike and Rachel had both stepped in, Mike taking Harvey for a drink while Rachel had listened to her wail over the phone. It wasn't her finest moment but it had made her realize that pregnancy hormones were, in fact, a real thing and not just something made up by expectant mothers feeling a bit off.

"There are benefits to them."

She raises an eyebrow, and it's his turn to feel hot under the collar, having lost count of the surfaces she'd pushed him up against to satisfy her needs. They'd been insatiable, not that he'd been complaining, and he wonders how they're going to go now there's a three-year-old living in the house with them. "I remember." He beams across at her, tilting his head. "We may have to work on our time management though."

"More efficient doesn't necessarily mean less adventurous."

She winks over her glass and his heart skips, reminding him he couldn't be any more in love with her if he tried. Since they met, she's been his compass, the woman who never judged but guided his way through the most challenging times of his life. She's his best friend, the mother of his children and the reason he wakes up happy each morning but she's also the voice that pisses him off when he's wrong, the gentle hand at his shoulder when he'd rather shy away from something, and the person who keeps him honest when there's an easier option.

She makes him a better man, and in turn, he's learned to give her his all, especially in moments like these, when she needs something back in return. Whether it be assurance, flirting, or something he can't quite figure out. It goes both ways, and his expression turns slightly more serious as he focuses his attention on her. "We're okay?"

Running into Paula hadn't been his fault, but he's conscious it did stir up some unresolved feelings, and hormones or not, he doesn't want them to leave lunch with anything hanging over there heads.

"We are." She doesn't miss a beat, this time finding his hand first and skimming her thumb over his knuckles. "But if you plan on springing Scottie on me tomorrow, a little warning would be nice."

He chuckles, relaxed as he shrugs. "You sure, cause you know, I think she's always had a thing for you."

"You're an idiot." She affirms, knowing she won't be able to say it for much longer. It's not a phrase she wants Gordon to pick up, but it's theirs, and in the years to come, it will fall back into the collection of moments that have built their relationship.

But, like today, they'll make new strides, and things they'll house in their hearts because it's not just the two of them anymore.

They're a family who are building a foundation to last.

A forever that isn't just for them.