don't back down; harvey/donna ; r (and maybe NC-17); 2,571 words;

1

somewhere between leaving and coming back something just changes somehow

a/n: so i have this friend erica who was all "watch suits, it's really good" and so i did and now i don't know what to do anymore because suits, so she wanted me to write baby!fic as she always does so here it starts

Harvey Specter doesn't play around, doesn't waste his time, doesn't make decisions that he regrets. He has reasons for this - his reasons are simple, logical, and real. Most importantly, his time is vaulable and his decision are meticulated in a way that shows he doesn't deal with bullshit.

He always liked that about Donna and that's what has made their partnership for the years' work. The truth is, he doesn't know half of what she did for him because he didn't bother to ask and he's never had to. Part of what made them great is the things that they didn't have to say and the things that were never said.

But that doesn't take back what has been said.

He likes to think that the things that have happened don't dictate what's going to happen, but that doesn't ammend the trust that was broken. He gets her anger, understands that she doesn't want to see him and that she reserves every right to call him every nasty name she can think of; he doesn't blame her, but he wants to level with her in a way they leads to resolution. All he wants is a resolution - he can negotiate, he is a closer, but this isn't something that he can do.

And Harvey Specter, he can fucking do anything that he wants to, except fix things with Donna.

She knows that Jessica never intended for the firing to stick - just to last long enough for a settlement or a resolution so that the firm wasn't liable for more people's actions. When Harvey says the words "I can't be me without you" with such desperation in his voice, emotions scaled in his eyes, she believes it. She chooses to believe it because she knows Harvey better than anyone could.

Harvey fought for her and she fought for him, each in their own way that speaks volumes about what a force they are. They are a team and in all reality nothing can really ever replace that. So he kisses her (or maybe she kisses him, it doesn't matter because the end result is still the same) and everything that's never been said is conveyed in a way that no one else would understand.

It happened on accident. On purpose. Something. Whatever. She doesn't really know exactly how it happened, which is ironic because she's Donna and she knows everything; in fact, part of her still has difficulty believing that any of it actually happened. Given the fact that they've been pretending for so long that nothing will happen between, has ever happened between them. Whatever it is, it takes her by surprise.

He's at her door this time, not just lurking outside on the street, and his knuckles are white like he's been clenching his fists outside of her door for courage. That's how she knows this time is different because Harvey Specter certainly isn't nervous about anything. There isn't anything romantic or climactic about it, it's simply a gesture.

No words pass between them, not like they should. She just lets his gaze trail down the length of her body and take in her appearance. He's in jeans and a button up shirt, a different one than he would wear at work and she absent;ly wonders if maybe he's been walking around for hours.

She reads it on his face, the slight tilt of his head giving her a signal that he's never really given her before. There was that one time but it doesn't count anymore, not for her, not according to anything that really counts. She bends her fingers over the hem of her sleeves, something to help her ignore the way that her palms are getting hot and her breath is caught in her throat.

Their mouths meet and she can't remember who made the first move - if it was her or him or if they met in the middle - and part of her absently wonders if this is just an awkward moment that she thought this was something that she misinterpreted. His lips part, hard pressed against hers as he moves closer and she can feel his muscles through his clothes. His hands lift to her cheeks and slide into her hair.

She silently reminds herself that she is not in love him.

His clothes are scattered everywhere, discarded carelessly when a sudden urgency rose between them the night before. It wasn't supposed to happen like that, just like it wasn't supposed to happen 2 months ago and a few nights a week ever since. Harvey sits up in bed, his flesh attempting to his inside of itself at the first sign of cold air.

He blinks two or three times before he tilts his gaze in the direction of the redheaded woman in his bed. He reaches out, pats his hand against whatever part of her body is by his hip while he scratches at his eye with his other hand. Donna stirs beside him, rolling onto her side and looking up at him through narrowed eyes.

"Are you staying the night or going home?" He asks, voice scratchy with sleep.

She yawns, her hair curling beneath her chin, "I need to go home."

He smirks at her lack of further movement and lays back into his 300 thread count, gold colored sheets that his secretary picked out for him. The irony isn't lost on him that she picked them out and is now wrapped up in them, but he keeps the thought to himself. He blinks a few more times as she sighs beside him, her lips in a pout that he can only see because the moonlight sneaking in through his blinds.

"Are you gonna get up? Or do I have to get you up?" He asks gently. Their conversations are always different in the dark - they feel different and they sound different. At least to him they do.

Lifting her hand to pinch the bridge of her nose, she peels an eye open to look at him. He meets her eyes, vowing not to break eye contact first. She narrows her gaze, "being with you all the time is tiring. What time is it?"

"Two," he replies easily, ignoring her first comment.

"God, Harvey, if you had my wardrobe I wouldn't have to get out of bed in the middle of the night," she says tiredly, mockingly.

He offers her a lighthearted laugh, reaches over and touches his fingertips to her face. He rolls towards her to face her, his mouth finding hers in the dark with an ease that's easily come between them recently. The feel of her breath against the hollows of his throat makes his eyes momentarily drift closed.

"What if your wardrobe was here?"

She stills for a moment, her fingers twisting the ends of her hair around them; "are you asking me what I think you're asking me?"

"I'm just saying that you can stay, if you want to," he counters with a grin.

"Oh, if I want to?" She mocks dramatically.

He smirks, "okay, then I want you to stay."

"That must have been hard for you," she teases. Her fingers thread into the hair at the back of his head as she offers him a tired smile. He quirks an eyebrow in return, challenging her to go on. She takes the challenge; "all of these feelings. Do you need anything?"

"Donna," he replies, looking at her deadpanned, "just stay. You look tired. It isn't becoming."

"Where's all the sweet talking I heard so much about?" She retorts.

He smirks, "I save that for people who actually appreciate it."

"Why wouldn't I appreciate the great Harvey Specter?"

He smirks in return and she rolls away from him, facing the window and taking his arm with her. He watches her eyes drift closed again and he finally resignates to fully lay down, his arm circled around her torso. He's not used to women sleeping over so this is a first for them both.

"So, I guess you're staying?" He mutters as he buries his nose into her red hair.

Her heel collides with his shin and it makes him grin as his lips find her shoulder. Her leg slides between his and he notes how cold her feet are. She sighs, "shut up and go to sleep, Harvey."

"Donna, my office," he says sternly, his jaw tight as he side eyes her when she walks by, "now."

She narrows her eyes as her fingers bang away at the keys, not really sure what the sudden demand for her to be in his office might be. She silently goes through a checklist of things that he could maybe be upset about but nothing comes to mind, nothing that he could possibly find out without her telling him. She really needs to tell him, but she can't find it in her to because she doesn't know how he might react.

She swallows and locks her computer before going into his office where he's leaning against the shelving, back to the window. He nods at the door and she catches what he means, so she eases the door shut behind her. Finally, she turns on her heel and faces him, remembering the last time they were in this situation.

There isn't any way that he could have found out that she's pregnant because she just found out. She absently wrings her hands and tucks her bottom lip between her teeth, her usual confident demeanor failing a little. He offers her a tight smile in an attempt to reassure her.

"What are you not telling me?" He starts, "you tell me everything, Donna, but not now. You're keeping something from me and I can tell."

"Since when did you learn to read my facial expressions?" She counters.

"Donna," he replies with a sigh.

"I'd rather not talk about it at work," she concedes.

He tilts his head, "the door's closed. Why not now so we can get back to work without anymore distractions?"

"I'm pregnant, Harvey," she admits with a sigh. It's been 3 months and they haven't had the conversation about what they are and what they aren't. She wasn't ready to talk about it, isn't sure what to tell him. "And I don't know if I'm going to keep it."

She watches his face fall a little as he pushes himself off of the shelf, his feet flattening out against the floor. He takes half steps as she reaches out and clutches the back of the chair for strength. She can't even gauge his reaction, doesn't know what he's thinking and that's a first for her.

"Why are you only just now telling me?" Harvey mutters, eyes piercing hers.

"Because what am I supposed to say, Harvey? You're my boss. This is too complicated. If anyone finds out, I can lose my job or, even worse, you can lose yours," she counters; she laughs bitterly, "you won't be you without this job."

"I won't be me without you. I thought I made that clear," he retorts. He shakes his head, purses his lips together. She can see the anger boiling in his eyes but she isn't sure of the motivation behind it. "You're just going to make a decision like that without telling me?"

"How are we supposed to have a baby when no one in this office even knows about us?" She challenges, her voice raising an octave. She rolls her eyes as her heel digs into the floor, his eyes angrily narrowing at her in response. "Who's going to tell Jessica, huh? Because no matter what, no matter how real this is, it's still against office policy."

"It's more complicated than that," he says; she slightly smirks and he tilts his head in disbelief, "damn it, Donna, were you even planning on telling me?"

"No? I don't know," her eyes tilt away from his, finding solace on a spot on his desk. She lightly shakes her head, trying to decide what she can say next. "I haven't had much time to process it."

"And what if you decide to keep it?" He challenges.

"Then you need to decide if you want to be a dad or if you want to be Uncle Harvey," she counters, lifting a finger at him pointedly.

Harvey's at her door again, pacing as he pulls at his jogging clothes from his morning jog. He found himself running further than he'd meant to and in a direction that he doesn't usually go, drawn to her and to fixing everything. It doesn't feel the same anymore and he almost can't even fathom how it's gone on this long; their last real conversation was in his office 3 weeks ago.

He sees her at work but it isn't the same. There's a distinct look in the way she's avoiding him, not that he can blame her, but the things have always come between them aren't the things that have been said - it's been the things that haven't been said. He isn't sure that he can what needs to be said.

He knocks anyway and when she answers, he tries to regulate his breathing from his run. She forgoes the greeting, sighs in annoyance and leaves the door open as she goes back into the apartment. He follows her, waiting for her to look at him because he knows that she'll be able to read whatever he has to say all over his face.

He follows her into her kitchen and takes the coffee cup that she offers to him. He takes a sip before he sets it on the counter beside hers, wondering if she's going to break the silence or if she's forcing him to do it. He quirks an eyebrow as she finally meets his gaze and he thinks that maybe he sees a hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth but just as quickly as the thought is there, it's gone.

He swallows, "I told Jessica."

"When?" She asks, voice still hoarse like it usually is early in the morning.

"Last night."

She leans her hip against the counter and lifts the cup to her mouth, muttering behind the ceramic, "what did you tell her?"

"The truth. That we've been seeing each other - that we're going to have a baby. Is there still a baby?"

"Is there still an us?" She counters. She releases a slightly exasperated breath and rolls her eyes, setting her mug back down on the counter. He watches her shake her head, his eyes narrowing in her direction; "it took you 3 weeks to think about it?"

"Donna," he says, nose briefly scrunching in exasperation, "you know I don't say anything that isn't worth saying. I wouldn't have said anything if I didn't think it was worth the risk."

"Please, you live off of adrenaline. You'd risk anything you had to if it gave you a rush," she retorts.

"Not when it comes to you," he said.

She releases a shaky breath, "so, am I fired?"

"No," he tells her with a grin, "that wasn't on the table. She knew better than for that to become an option. Not after the last time."

She lifts her chin a little, eyes tracing his grin, "is that all you came here to say?"

He nods firmly; end of discussion.