The First.

The first time he'd called her he hadn't intended for her to clean up his mess. But then, she was so adept at it that he really should have expected it.

He was half asleep – in that pleasant state where his brain was still working but in an abstract way that made no sense when he was fully conscious. And then it hit him. He sat up in bed like he'd been struck by lightening.

The woman sleeping next to him stirred, looking up at him with azure eyes he'd found fascinating three hours ago. "Where's the fire?" She asked groggily, pulling the silk sheet up over herself.

"I just figured out a way to make my client a couple of extra million," He told her, reaching over her to grab his phone from the bedside table.

"Really?" She sat up and ran a hand down his bare arm sensuously. "How?"

He took one look at her and saw the dollar signs in her eyes, "Wouldn't work for you sweetheart. You need to own a multi million dollar publishing company."

"Oh," She looked disappointed. "Who are you calling then?"

"Someone to help me," He replied, hitting number one on speed dial.

"Who's gonna answer at three o'clock in the morning?"

He raised an eyebrow, "I'm Harvey Spector, who wouldn't?"

"Who wouldn't what?" Donna's sleepy voice said on the other line.

"Nothing. Never mind. Do you still have the Harbisher case notes?"

"You do realise that it's the middle of the night, right?" She yawned as if to emphasise the fact.

"I know. I also know you."

Donna sighed, "I'll bring it over. I'll be there in 20."

"It will be 10 in traffic."

"You're assuming I'm at home."

"Where are you then?"

"Someplace I'll never tell." She laughed and hung up on him. He'd never ask and she'll never tell; it was just how they were.

Harvey looked over at the woman, forgetting her name. Claire? Kitty? Kate? "I'm going to get up now." Play time is over.

"Ok," She shrugged then snuggled down on the bed, clearly getting comfortable.

He refrained from rolling his eyes. Some people are just inept. "I have to work?"

She rolled over, flicking her long brown hair over her shoulder in a seductive manner, "What sort of work?"

"Lawyer work," Harvey said tightly, speaking slowly. She didn't seem so stupid when he picked her up the previous night.

"Can you multitask?"

"I could," Harvey conceded. "But I don't want to. You see," He leant down, hands placed on either side of her shoulders, "I'm what people call a perfectionist. I focus all my energies on one thing at a time."

"Then focus on me. Work can wait til later," Her hands skimmed along his chest, getting dangerously low.

Damn stupid clingy woman. Is she incapable of getting the hint? "I want to but I have to work."

"It's 3 am!" She pouted.

"New York's called the city that never sleeps for a reason," He reminded her, not completely unkindly.

"But…" She trailed off as the glass elevator whirled into life. "I thought you said you lived alone," She frowned at him, a crease forming on her makeup streaked forehead.

Harvey closed his eyes, sending a silent thank you to whatever deity that enabled Donna to get to his place so early. He opened them, a sudden thought hitting him. "I never said that. I said I was alone tonight."

Her eyes widened and she glanced between him and the elevator, "You're married."

"You should go," Harvey stood up. He should feel guilty that he allowed her to think that but he didn't. He was too irritated to feel sympathy. "My wife's got a bit of a temper."

"Right," The brunette scurried out of bed, clamouring to get dressed.

"You make a break for it while I distract her," Harvey came up with the plan on the fly – it was his specialty after all- and waited for Donna to appear.

He couldn't help the small smirk that appeared when she stepped out of the lift. She took one look at the scene in front of her – scantily clad girl hastily getting dressed and Harvey looking the part of the reticent man. "Seriously?" She glared at him, folding her arms over her casual shift dress.

"Baby, I am so sorry. I am a worthless husband," Harvey stressed the word so slightly no one but Donna and maybe Jessica could detect it. She would play along, acting the scorned wife and save him from booting out his booty call.

"Seriously?" Donna repeated, sounding angry now but he knew she was acting. She knew what the game plan. Donna always knew.

"Baby..." Harvey knew he was pushing his luck but he was going to have fun with it. She hated that word.

"Don't call me baby," She snapped, dumping her bag on the floor. Paper files spilt out and Harvey frowned; he was going to have to reorder them in a minute. "How dare you!" Red hair flowed behind her as she stalked towards him, eyes glaring daggers. She really should be nominated for an Oscar.

"I'm sorry." He'd forgotten how scary his PA could be. But boy, he was now remembering all the times he'd made her angry before. And how much he regretted it.

"Sorry? Oh you'll be sorry," Donna grabbed the nearest thing she could lay her perfectly manicured hands on and threw it at his head. She missed, naturally, and the glass statue shattered on the ground behind him.

"Donna!" He screamed, no yelled in a manly fashion. He'd liked that statue.

"Um, I'll just go," The unnamed brunette ducked past Harvey, eyes glued to the floor. She was half dressed and clutched her Jimmy Choos tightly to her surgically enhanced chest.

"Yes," Donna glared at her, her tone on the razor's edge between glacial politeness and bitchiness. "That's what you do now."

She scampered out of the penthouse, not daring to look back.

Donna glared at him until the elevator had taken the girl out of view. She grinned, "That was fun."

Harvey was taken aback by the sudden character change but hid it well and took it in stride. "You threw a statue at my head!" He didn't know whether to be angry or impressed at her aim – it had come very close.

"As I said, that was fun," She smirked and bent down to pick her bag.

"That was a two thousand dollar statue," He informed her and sat down on the black leather couch.

"An ugly two thousand dollar statue," Donna corrected him, fishing out the files he'd requested. She sat down opposite him, "So why the theatrics?"

"I needed to work. She wanted to keep playing," Harvey shrugged. "Incompatible ideas." He pulled out a pen from the drawer and started flicking through the papers. "So she had to go."

"You could have just told her to go," Donna pointed out, perching on the sofa's arm.

He looked up at her, "No I couldn't. I just rocked her world; I couldn't just shatter it."

"You just decided to pretend we were married and guilt her into leaving?"

"Please, you saw her face – she wasn't feeling guilty. She just wanted to get out before you murdered me."

"And I'm still contemplating it."

"Come on, you love me," He tossed her a smug grin.

"I'm getting some coffee," She turned on her heel and went into his kitchen.

"You know you love me," Harvey called after her.

"I know you love you," She retorted, starting up his coffee machine.

"True," He wasn't going to lie. He went back to his papers, knowing that she'd come back in a moment with a cup of coffee for him. Scanning through the meticulous case notes he'd made he found what he was looking for. "Son of bitch."

"Technically, I'm just a bitch," Donna told him as she handed him a mug brimming with his favourite blend. "But I prefer HBIC."

"I'm not going there," Harvey shook his head and took a sip of coffee. "But I am going to Harbisher's office in the morning. Someone's been a naughty boy."

"Aren't you all?" She said dryly, dropping onto the three seater sofa opposite him, balancing her own coffee in one hand and a fashion magazine in the other.

"I'll try not to take that personally."

"Mm kay," She replied absently, sipping at her coffee and reading her magazine with her feet resting on his sofa. She was completely comfortable in his penthouse and they both knew it.

He smiled at her for a second then went back to work, finding even more ways to burry the opposition. After all, he couldn't disappoint his wife. Even if it was just a fake marriage.