Note: Thank you for reading this through to the end. Like I said, I've never done this before, but I'm happy with the outcome and proud of myself - I told a story I wanted to tell and I had fun doing it. I hope it made you happy, too.

Heather (kalingswifts) and Alyssa (donnaandharvey) are amazing and patient and give me more credit than I deserve, I love you both and thank you for the betas, always.

Please enjoy the final installment!

—

Harvey doesn't necessarily avoid Donna. It's not deliberate. He's just...cautious. Vigilant.

Maybe she would come to him.

And as the days went on —

Maybe she won't.

And it's this thought to which he has resigned himself, come Monday morning, the seventh day — and on the seventh day, he rested, he thinks bitterly — and he holes himself up in his office with whatever bullshit cases he can find, because facing the reality, the end without a means, is a pill far too hard to swallow.

With each passing second without Donna in his office — in his arms — he grows more and more agitated, withdrawn. Maybe he pushed too far, after all. The thought knocks the wind out of him, that maybe he destroyed their relationship without even giving it a real go.

So he'll go to her now. Play it off, tell her they both won, offer her this weekend and hope like hell she takes it and gives him a piece of her. Any piece of her.

—

The weekend makes things easier, and Donna is content to have a long bath and forget this whole thing — until maybe she doesn't, under the safety of the bubbles, but her bathtub has certainly seen its fair share over the years.

She doesn't hear from Harvey. Which is to be expected, given that she hasn't made any move to reach out to him, either. But she can't help but feel put out.

So as Monday morning approaches, Donna doesn't know what to expect. Doesn't know how much longer she can keep playing this game.

He's been all talk and no action — which she supposes was the entire point of this charade, but she has been nothing but crystal clear. She wants him. And in those small moments, laden with intimacy, when he drops his guard, she can feel how much he wants her — physically, of course, but also in all the ways that matter.

And yet, Harvey has not pressed her against the file room wall to lick and suck his way down her body; he hasn't fucked her so hard that she forgets her own name, or fingered her under her desk while her foot teases his cock, or shown up at her door in the dead of night because he just has to have her. All of her.

So the small doubt lingers, grows in her brain like a cancer, suffocating every thought.

She exits the elevator without a spring in her step and she's nervous, of all things, for God's sake —

— and nothing.

Harvey doesn't so much as glance her way. She didn't even care what she threw on this morning — partly out of spite, partly out of self-pity. But it wouldn't have mattered anyway.

The day drags on. Nine unproductive hours later, Donna puffs out her cheeks in a sigh, pushes away from her desk and marches down to Harvey's office. She doesn't have a plan, exactly, but she'll think of something on the way.

Donna is so lost in thought that she doesn't realize Harvey is on his way out until she nearly knocks him over.

"Jesus, Harvey!"

"Sorry," he says, uncharacteristically sheepish, beckoning her back into his office. "I was actually on my way to come find you."

Her brow knits in confusion as she swings the door closed behind her. "For what?"

Harvey rocks on his heels, hands shoved in his pockets — looking very cat-that-ate-the-canary, much like he did when this all started.

"It's been a week."

Donna blinks. It takes a moment for his words to sink in. "You mean —"

He smirks. "Call it a tie?"

Donna shakes her head, bewildered. "The weekend doesn't count, Harvey."

His blasé smile fades, though his eyes are still gleaming. "You should have stipulated that."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't think about amending our contract," she bites back.

His face turns sour. "What the hell is your problem?"

Donna sighs and turns away. This is the last conversation she wants to be having right now.

"Look, if this is about your shopping trip, I'm prepared to honor that—"

"You know what? Don't bother," she snaps, crossing her arms over her chest in defense.

"What?"

Donna laughs humorlessly. "You know, I actually thought...but no, of course not."

"Donna—"

"Harvey," she raises her voice as she cuts him off.

This is her last chance, her last shot. The last bone she'll throw him.

Push until it hurts.

"I thought you were ready. I thought this was it. But then I think, what the hell is taking him so long?"

"Me?"

"Yeah! You, Harvey! I gave you every opportunity!"

"It's not as if you ran at me either," he challenges, and Donna can tell he's growing more pissed off by the second.

"That's the problem, Harvey. I always run to you."

He doesn't say anything more, seemingly at a loss for words. He's just staring at her, eyes holding a thousand different emotions that never see the light of day. It captivates her and terrifies her all at the same time. She's laying it all on the line and her heart pounds a mile a minute, hands limp and clammy at her sides.

"Obviously, you can't make this work, or maybe you don't want to make this work."

Maybe you don't want me.

"You honestly don't see what you do to me?!" Harvey shouts, voice breaking. Donna is taken aback at his outburst.

Tears form as she lets out a watery chuckle. "What happened to, 'I'm human, Donna'?"

He holds her gaze, voice thick with meaning. "This is never just about that. And you know it."

And there it is; his fears laid bare before her, everything she is to him and how astronomical and momentous they are, and would be, and Harvey wonders how she cannot see that she is the most important person in his life.

But Donna does see it there, she always has; the gravity of emotion pours out of every fiber of his being as he stares at her now.

He just needs to show her.

She hopes beyond all hell that he can. Because this is it.

Donna shakes her head, steps back with finality. "No, Harvey. I don't."

It's the second time she's walked out of his office like this, and the millionth time he finds himself choked up, lungs caving in, unable to give her what she needs in that moment, what they both crave.

And then it hits him with striking clarity:

She wants him. He wants her.

She's the most important person in his life.

It's as simple as that.

And it's the last time he'll let her walk away.

—

He's never felt distance quite like this.

His heart pounds in his ears, jumping out of the cab before it even comes to a halt outside her building. He throws his wallet at the driver in lieu of payment. He doesn't give a shit. Everything he has belongs to her.

He jams the elevator button and is increasingly pissed off when it doesn't show. He opts for the stairs, takes them two at a time, and before he knows it he is knocking fiercely on her door.

He has a whole speech prepared, but as soon as she opens the door and her eyes lock with his, he doesn't even think.

He sees the spark of understanding — leave it to Donna to read between the lines — as his body and soul are thrown forward and meet hers in a heart-stopping kiss.

Time seems to stop; their lips slide together, Donna's arms wind around his neck, his hands grasp her waist to unconsciously pull her closer.

He pulls away. He needs to see her face. He needs to tell her.

"Donna..." he starts, but she leans forward and cuts him off with her soft, sweet lips.

"I know," she whispers, staring up at him with a raw vulnerability that shakes him to the core.

He's about to kiss her again, but pauses as the cuffs of her sleeves brush his neck. Donna doesn't wear cuffs.

"Are you..." Harvey looks down, takes in the rumpled white fabric, top two buttons askew exposing a sea of freckles. "Is that my shirt?"

She raises her eyebrows, still wrapped in his arms.

"Donna, why are you wearing my shirt?"

"Because I knew you would show up here the second I left your office," she whispers, eyes twinkling.

He gapes. "Donna Paulsen," he says in awe and she laughs wholeheartedly.

"Are you going to kiss me or do I have to wait another week?" she challenges, but beneath the lofty veneer rests a shadow of doubt. He hates that he's the cause of it, and he thinks he'd very much like to kiss it away and make it better — so he does, ravaging her lips once more and she scratches her nails at the base of his skull as if she can't be close enough. He knows the feeling; his mouth opens under hers and their tongues greet, a gentle hello after thirteen years before they fall into the practiced song and dance of old lovers.

He pulls away reluctantly, relishing in the soft tug of her bottom lip loosening from his. Rests his forehead on hers, and Donna blows sweetly on his face, catching her breath.

And it's so easy. Holding her gaze, breathing together, her gentle caresses on his shoulder blades while his thumbs rub circles on her hipbones.

He wants this. He's wanted this for years.

And there is no room for any doubt when Donna grabs his hands from her sides and pulls him towards her living room, grinning at him like Christmas came early.

She presses her lips to his as they sink down onto the couch. His hands curve along her breasts, aching to touch her everywhere but still holding back. He can't help it; this is the most important moment in his life and he can't afford to screw it up.

Donna senses this. "Harvey," she pleads, and that's all the permission he needs. He cups them in his hands, testing the weight of them; a perfect fit.

Every inch of her is a perfect fit.

His hands are everywhere after that, grazing her hips, sliding over the swell of her ass where he squeezes hard and she grinds against him. He pulls his shirt — and it makes him impossibly harder when he remembers it's his shirt — to the side so he can take her breast in his mouth.

Donna sighs, throws her head back as he bites down on her nipple, rolling it between his teeth. Her hands are tugging at his hair and the swirl of her hips on his lap is going to be the death of him.

It's hard and heavy but it's different. She's different. Intimacy is at the heart of every touch, every stroke, every needy sound from the back of her throat. Their hands find each other as they move, palmer's kiss, and Donna threads her fingers between his and he swears the word complete never held any meaning before this moment.

Until Donna palms him through his slacks, sets him free and sinks down on him. And this is the definition of complete. Whole.

Love.

Foreheads pressed together, hands entwined, their eyes meet and matching smiles adorn their faces.

It's you.

It's you.

He forgets in that moment that they haven't always been like this. It feels like they have.

Donna starts to move and Harvey is mesmerized. And more than a little past his breaking point.

"Donna," he breathes into her ear, stilling her hips with his hands. "I want —"

She swallows the rest of his sentence with a full, chaste kiss. "I know. But we have time for that. All the time in the world for that. Right now, I just want you."

She nips at his lower lip and his dick twitches inside her.

"Bedroom," he mutters into her neck, picking her up and she wraps her legs around his waist.

He stubs his toe and she jostles out of his arms, and it's entirely un-sexy and messy and they laugh at the absurdity of it all as they stumble through the threshold to the foot of her bed.

He's not sure how they get there, but in one swift motion Donna has straddled him once more and he shudders with a sigh as he fills her.

And fuck if it doesn't feel so good, but the need to be closer consumes him — and it's almost poetic, how they spent years apart but now these last few inches seem unbearable — so he reaches forward to crush her against his chest. He breathes her in as their noses brush together, a gentle nudge before Donna slowly rolls him over so he's on top.

They don't need words, but he says them anyway.

"Wish I'd come to my senses sooner."

She understands.

"It's okay." A full-blown grin. "I was worth the wait."

You're it for me is what he doesn't say, but he sees the same promise reflected in her gaze and for that, he's grateful and moved all at once.

Harvey kisses her as he starts to move, and she moans into his mouth.

He's buried to the hilt, pulls all the way out before plunging back in and it's hypnotic, the push and pull like the tide, the secret thrill of their hips crashing and bumping together. She's watching, eyes locked on his every movement and he might come from that alone, her dark eyes drinking in their lovemaking, the soft whine as she bucks her hips up to meet his.

Donna's biting her lip now and without even asking, he knows she's close — he feels it with each rapid flutter of her walls around him. Her clit has been ignored, and that won't do, so his thumb sneaks between them to circle the hard nub and from the way her breathing stutters he knows he's hit the jackpot.

He slows as she comes apart beneath him, takes in every tremor, every vibration, every sharp sting from her nails on his back, silky wetness pooling between her thighs that makes him groan and pound harder, riding out the wave with her.

She squeezes around his cock. "Come for me, Harvey," she whispers into his neck, and that's all he needs; her hands roam his back as he spasms inside her, clinging to every last second of bliss.

—

For all the times Donna has envisioned this — coming together again after so long, finally and inevitably falling into bed, raw and amorous, pliant and passive, hot and heavy, every variation under the sun — she never expected it to feel quite like this.

Natural and innate and wholly content, the feeling surrounding her like a thick blanket, comforting and sure.

She is overwhelmed with emotion, curled under Harvey, the thrum of his heartbeat on her chest that becomes a part of her.

Donna knows she should clean up, but she doesn't want to leave his warm weight, doesn't want to wash away the drying evidence of their lovemaking between her legs. She doesn't want this moment to end.

She smirks against his brow, the thought surfacing unbidden. Should have taken this bet ages ago.

Harvey's hand finds hers then, dexterous fingers toying with her palm, and she thinks — no. Any other time, it might have broken them. This is their time, right here, right now.

She's never believed in fate. But she does believe that timing is everything.

And the past week — past few weeks, months, even, if she's honest — had been leading to this.

"I win," he murmurs, poking her playfully in the ribs, and Donna chuckles.

"Oh no, mister. I win, remember?"

"Feels like I did," he whispers into her hair.

Donna smiles, a full smile, without reservation, and she honestly can't remember ever feeling this happy. She drags her lips across his jawline. "Sap."

His arms tighten around her, and she knows.

This is where they were always meant to be.

—

Thank you for all of your kind words and encouraging comments, they mean more than you know. ❤️

Also, quick note — this is very similar to the end of 8x16, obviously, but I've always wanted to explore that night further and this allowed me to do that without fear that I wouldn't get it right — two birds with one stone!

Thank you again for reading!