THanks for the reviews and follows/favs. The previous part was really different from what I thought this story would be, so it kind of made me anxious to write this part. Anyway, here it FINALLY is. It's only 3x longer than I thought it would be.. LOL, but I just wanted to have it all there.

I'd like to thank Stef & Dany for there inspiration on some lines at the end.

And I hope you'll enjoy this part too. Maybe leave a review?


Part 2 – Tonight you're mine

Mitchells brings her home that night and she knows she should feel happy, but somehow she can't convincingly say she is. She also knows why she can't say that. It was that dance she shared with Harvey earlier that evening. Those three minutes feeling better then every other second of the night in Mitchell's arms. She knows it isn't fair towards Mitchell, but feelings for a man you've known for over a decade aren't easily replaced. Especially is those feelings weren't just any feelings. She used to love Harvey. That's what she tries to tell herself, that it's past tense... that she's ready to move on.

"Goodnight, Donna," Mitchell says, his voice waking her up from her thoughts. "Goodnight Mitchell," she replies as she watches him walk towards her door. His hand reaches for the doorknob, but he turns around then looking at her. He has his coat in his hand, a smile on his lip before he says, "I love you, Donna."

She doesn't reply because all she can see is him. Harvey. Her mind bringing back the time he had said those words to her. She realizes then that she didn't use to love Harvey, but still does. That the only one she could replicate those feelings for is him. That it has always been him and will always be him.

She now literally waits for Mitchell to leave, she knows it's bad but she just can't respond. She can't help but feel how different this feels than the time Harvey said it. Yes she was shocked, but she had wanted him to stay. This time, if she had to be honest, she was waiting for Mitchell to leave. She just nods then indicating him he should leave, a very thin smile on her lips.

It's the only response she gives him, but Mitchell takes the smile as a positive thing. He knows it's soon. Soon to say those words and he doesn't care that she doesn't say it back, the thin smile on her lips is enough. For now, he thinks, but it's only proof of how little he really knows her. Cause someone that really knows her would have seen that that smile wasn't meant for him. Harvey would have seen it.

As the door falls shut, Donna's eyes pop up. "OMG," she mumbles, "OMG." She isn't saying it, because Mitchell said those words, but because of the realization it caused within her. That she, Donna Paulsen, is in fact still in love with him. With Harvey, because it has always been him and will always be him.

She doesn't even realize her hands are making the movement, but she calls him then. Shocked when he actually answers, she isn't even sure what she wants to say. Are words enough to say what needs to be said in this situation? But she knows she has to say something, before he does and things might go wrong again. "Harvey," she mumbles her voice trembling.

The other words remain stuck on her tongue. But sometimes just one word is enough, for them. They've done years without any, so now, now that he hears her call out his name. The tone in her voice, that one word is enough for him to know what to do. "It's okay," he answers, "I'll be there."

He doesn't even know what's going on or why she called, but it's her. It's different and he just has to go, knowing he will have to start his moving on progress all over again if he does. But he doesn't care about that, he cares about her. All he cares about is her.

.
Only fifteen minutes later she hears the three little but firm knocks on her door. And she knows the sound of them well enough to know that's it's him, not because she called and he told her he was coming. She knows, she senses it's him. Not just that he's the one at the door, but 'The One'. Every single fibre in her being knows it's him, her brain just being the last one to realize.

She opens the door and she can't help but smile, but when he doesn't, her smiles fades away. In fact he isn't even really looking at her, and she wonders if this was the right call to make. "Harvey, " she mumbles again, waiting for him to look at her.

He sighs and he's trying to direct every muscle in his face to smile when he will lift his gaze towards her. Just to show her everything will be all right, except he doesn't. He doesn't smile when he sees her face, because she doesn't and he wonders if it was the right call to come over.

"Thank you," she whispers. The words forming a reassurance of his actions, and his lips curl up just a little as he steps inside. She closes the door behind him and spots the Chunky Monkey and bottle of wine he is holding behind his back. "You brought ice cream and wine?" she asks, as she walks around to face him. "I did," he mumbles. "I figured you might need it."

"Thank you," she says again as she watches him sit down, heading to the kitchen to grab two glasses and spoons. "Just what I needed," she whispers handing him a spoon. He looks at her, her words on repeat in his mind and he can't help but agree. That this is exactly what he needs, that she's what he needs, but he doesn't say it. He just nods and smiles a little. Pouring both of them a glass.

It remains quiet for a while. It isn't awkward, but it isn't really comforting either. Both of them not sure what to say or what to do. Donna thinks of a million things to say, just to break the ice when she notices how he's eating all the banana pieces out of the Chunky Monkey box. "Why are you only eating the bananas?" she whispers, fighting his spoon for a piece of chocolate. He looks at her confused, he didn't even consciously notice he was doing that, he takes in her questioning face. The way her eyebrows are raised, the colour of her eyes. He swallows and sighs before he answers. "You told me you don't eat them anyway."

Donna is surprised he remembers something so insignificantly she told him years ago, and at the same time it warms her heart. She leans forward then, pressing her lips against his. The touch of her soft lips on his exactly how he remembers it. And he gasps for air, before he answers her kiss. It's sweet and soft and she tastes like the wine and ice cream he had brought along. It's comforting and all he ever wanted and needed, but he pulls back then, not because he wants to but because he had to. Letting his forehead rest on hers he lets out a sigh. "We can't Donna," he mumbles, "not like this."

"Mitchell and I broke up," she lies, because technically they haven't but she knows they will. She's just pronouncing the words a couple of hours to early. "I'm sorry," he replies and even though it is music to his ears, he genuinely is sorry. Because all he ever wanted was for her to be happy.

"I'm not," she mumbles just barely loud enough for him to hear as she moves closer to him again, but he stops her. "It's not the right time, Donna. You'll regret this," he replies, mostly because he knows he probably won't be able to recover from it if she does. Regret it.

She lets herself fall back on the couch then, tears starting to stream down her face. Thinking that this is his way of telling that he doesn't want it. "Will it ever be the right time," she mumbles, but he doesn't hear it between the sound of her soft sobbing.

He looks down at her then, confused about her tears. He wonders is they were because of Mitchell, but she said she wasn't sorry about them breaking up. But maybe she was. Or was she already regretting that she kissed him? He doesn't know and he's not sure if he even wants to know. All he can do now is be her friend, in the form they both over emphasized during that dinner. He really considers her to be his best friend, but he wonders if they were ever just that. Or if they could ever be just that. Friends. Only friends. He swallows, wrapping his arm around her as he lets her cry on his shoulder. Being the only a friend he doesn't want to be.

Half an hour later her tears have come to an end and he notices how she wants to say something. How's she's building up the courage to tell him something. It's the way she's slightly moving on the couch, the way she frowns. "What is it?" he asks, trying to reassure her that she really can tell him everything. Just like he promised all those years ago.

"Mitchell told me he loved me," she whispers, not even sure as to why she's telling him. Maybe she's just hoping for a reaction. Anything at this point. He let out a sigh. "I can't blame him," he mumbles then and she wants to ask why. What he means with that, but she can't pronounce the words. She's become afraid of the word, of the things it may cause. She had never been the one to ask things, she had always just known. And the two times she actually asks, using the two very small words. Both only three letters, her life got turned upside down. So she doesn't ask why, she just tells herself that the way his body tensed and how he sighed when she pronounced the words is enough. For now.

He smiles as he realizes that now that she's with him, near him, that his headache is gone. That even though she's all he can think about, his mind is at ease. Exactly like the way he feels when he sat on that bench. That bench he sat earlier this night. He brushes it of as a coincidence, his hand brushing through her hair as he focuses on the sound of her breathes.

Even though he's the only a friend in this situation, he knows he can never be just that. Because the way her head is resting on his chest, is feeling like the best thing in the world right now, and her fingers in his neck are literally burning his skin. He also knows he needs to get out of there now, pronto. He can only imagine the dream he's about to have that night and if he would stay it would most definitely lead to a very awkward situation the following morning. Because things like that cannot happen if you're only a friend.

He lifts her up, ever so slightly and lays her down again on the couch. He reaches for a blanket, placing it over her. He knows he could have carried her to her bedroom, but he doesn't want to. He's only been in that room once and he wasn't only a friend that night. He won't ever go in that room again, being just that. Being in this apartment, so close to her is already hard enough. He walks over to her kitchen and gets a glass of water and some aspirins that he places on the coffee table next to her. "Sweet dreams, Donna," he whispers his index finger caressing her cheek, "I love you."

.


.

It's the first night in forever Harvey actually sleeps the entire time, but it doesn't mean he didn't dream about Donna. No, ofcourse he did, but this dream was quite different from the rest. In this dream he woke up by feeling long red hair tickle his face, except those hairs didn't belong to Donna. They belonged to a little girl that looked just like her, except for the two moles above her left eyebrow. How the little girl called him daddy, crawling next to him in bed. And when he leaned on his shoulder to look at the girl, he spotted Donna behind her smiling at him.

It's also one of the first mornings he doesn't have to go for a run, instead he decides to do something completely different. Instead of running away from his dream, from her so to say, he lets Ray drive him to her apartment building in the morning. He waits outside the car for her to come downstairs. He hasn't said anything, he just hopes she'll agree to come along.

She stops in her tracks as soon as she sees him, nearly stumbling down the last step of the stairs to the entrance in the process. She smiles then, walking towards him. "What are you doing here?" He buries his hands in the pockets of his pants as he moves around a little. "I thought I'd give you a ride," he tells her, "we're going to Nougatine for breakfast."

She can't help but smile as she shakes her head. How he's doing this now again, just like he did after everything with Stephen Huntly. He opens the door for her and lets her get in the car, before he walks to the other side and slides on the backseat next to her. A bit closer than usual, or what they're used to and their hands are nearly touching, but neither of them actually dares to move the inch.

They sit on opposite sides of the table and to any outsider it would look like a breakfast date between a happy couple. Both of them smiling, constantly talking. Donna stealing bites of the buttermilk pancakes with berries, bananas and Maple Syrup from Harvey's plate after she had already finished her waffles. The way he looks at her, a sparkle in his eye that was visible to anyone but her. No, for them it was anything but normal, neither of them daring to address the kiss from the night before.

Instead it is just one of those things that remains unspoken. Like they always seemed to do, not talk about the things they really should talk about. So it remains mostly silent, just like the night before. During the ride back to the firm, as well as the elevator ride towards the fiftieth floor. Even though Harvey prepared himself to say something, he doesn't because they just had to step in a very crowed elevator together.

It's so crowded they're practically squeezed against each other, so instead of talking they just quickly look at each other. The backs of their hands are touching and then Donna just holds his hand, both still ignoring the effect it was having on them. She stares at the sign above the door, the numbers creeping up , and every floor the elevator climbs the elevator gets less crowded. Yet they remain in the same position, arms touching, Donna holding his hand. Floor by floor she's building up the courage to say something. And now that the elevator is finally empty besides them, she slowly turns towards him, his hand still in hers. "Thank you, Harvey," she whispers placing a kiss on his cheek. Letting go of his hand as she hears the little ding of the elevator reaching the floor. Stepping out of it as soon as the doors open. Harvey lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding and he unknowingly he brings his hand to his cheek, still able to feel the warmth of her lips on his skin.

He watches her walk to her desk as he continues to walk to his own. He's looking around the hallway, a smile on his face. One that doesn't go unnoticed to Gretchen. Seeing Harvey smile was something she actually hadn't seen at all since she came to work for him. She also notices the red lipstick mark on Harvey's cheek and points him on it. "Thanks, Gretchen," he mumbles as he lifts his fingers to his cheek again. "I have to go to a meeting," he continues as he turns back around, pulling out his phone to call Paula.

.

Donna sighs, she's been reading the same sentence for the umpteenth time that day. She just can't concentrate, not after last night, not after their breakfast. She stares at the clock again, it's only been an hour since they arrived at the firm, but she has to see him. She has to talk to him.

"Gretchen, where's he?" she asks the woman behind her old desk. Gretchen tells her that he's out, but she does notice the colour lipstick his former secretary is wearing. "Red," she calls her back. "Yes, Gretchen," she replies turning back around. "Don't make him suffer any longer," the older woman answers.

.


.

"Harvey," dr. Agard greets him as she signals for him to sit down. "We haven't talked in a while," she continues, "is everything all right?" He nods at her as he sits down, a smile on his face. "Yes," he confirms, "or everything could be alright." Paula looks at him confused, one of the last times she spoke to him he had come to determine whether he should resign or not. They hadn't reached a conclusion during a session, but she knew he had decided to do just that. She also knows how things changed since then, but only on a professional level. He had told her how Jessica had found out whatever it was Hardman had against Jack Soloff. How they had managed to get rid of the guy for good. How the young junior partner escaped his prison sentence, how Jessica had made Harvey come back to the firm. "What do you mean by that?" she asks.

He decides then to tell her everything, well almost everything. He tells her about the dreams he's been having about Donna. How he knows that these dreams aren't about his mother, but about her. How those dreams used to make him wake up at night, how he changed his route of his morning run towards the harbour. How that was the only place he could feel at rest again. The only place he could clear his mind. "It's funny," he says then, still not really connecting the dots, "but last night for the first time in a very long time I felt at peace again. Without having to be at that bench." Paula smiles, she has an idea as to how that happened, but she doesn't want to assume anything. "What happened last night Harvey?"

He tells her about the wedding of their friends, how she was there. How she was the only one he could look at when the music started, when the vows were exchanged. How it felt when he danced with her. How good it felt and yet how it broke his heart. How he tried to forget about her but couldn't. "I was with Donna," he mumbled. "I know," dr. Agard smiled, "do you know why she has this effect on you?" she asks carefully, she knows him well enough to not bombard him with conclusions and terms.

"Yes," he mumbles a small smile on his lips. "I'm in love with her." His confession actually makes Paula sit back in her chair, raising her eyebrows. She knows he's come a long way with the therapy, but she did not think he would come to this particular conclusion. To use those words, but she proudly smiles at him. "You should tell her," she offers, "she deserves to know."

"I did," he mumbles letting his head hang down, "that's how this all started," he continues signalling around the room. Paula swallows, surprised by his words once more. "You already told her?"

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He watches his reflection in the mirror of the elevator later that afternoon, the words from dr. Agard on repeat in his mind. He can't help but think about how different this elevator ride is, how he misses her next to him. How he just wants to hold her hand, have her close. How her lips on his cheek could make him happy. He decides then that he has to talk to her, but as he walks towards her desk he notices how Mitchell is there. He can't help but overhear there conversation.

Mitchell looks at her, tries to read her face but he can't. He doesn't know why he hasn't heard from her all day, so he does the one thing that can only make it worse. "I told you I love you," Mitchell speaks, the words forming a knot in Harvey stomach, and somehow it's the exact moment he catches Donna's eye. "I told you I love you and you don't talk to me for a day," Mitchell continues. She swallows, she can hear the words Mitchell is saying, but they don't really register. All she does is look at Harvey. "I'm sorry," she replies now looking back to Mitchell, "I can't." Harvey swallows, her words hitting him like a stomp in his stomach. Her words making him turn around and walk back to his office. Not realising that those words weren't meant for him.

"I'm sorry?" she hears Mitchell reply, his face full of confusion. "I'm sorry Mitchell," she continues, "I can't do this. I can't, not when I'm still –" He sighs, "you're still in love with him," he hisses angry. "I am," she nods, before she watches him walk away. She feels her heart pounding in her chest, it's the first time she actually admitted that out loud. And for all she knew Harvey actually heard it. Harvey.

She snaps out of her thoughts then to look back in the direction he'd just been standing, but he isn't there. She knows it's bad, that he must have heard her words before this. That he must have drawn the wrong conclusion, again. Her feet carry her to his office, her heart now pounding in her throat. "Harvey," she burst out the second she enters his office, but he doesn't look at her. "Donna, please don't -" he starts, still staring out of the window.

"Harvey, please," she begs him again, "I really –" He sighs then, letting his head hang low. "Donna stop," he orders, "I can't. Not now," he adds mumbling, lifting his head again to look at the New York skyline again. He hears her sigh and watches her walk away in the reflection of the mirror.

.


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The following morning she wakes up alone again, but this morning it feels even worse than the previous. Yesterday she woke up with the idea to finally tell him how she felt, but somehow the words didn't come. She hoped the looks and moments they shared were enough for now, but in the course of just a couple of minutes everything was back to how it was a couple of months ago. She really wants him to wait outside for her, to go to breakfast together again. She thinks about that time she questioned him about it.

"What are you doing here?" she whispers, holding her bag in both her hands as she walks towards him. He smiles, his hands buried in the pocket of his pants. "I thought I'd give you a ride." She has to bite her lip in order not to smile. "You just gave me a ride last night," she counters. He shakes his head, "yeah, this time I thought I'd join you." She looks away then, "Harvey, we put in 15 hour days. You really want to go to work together?"

And now she can't think of anything she'd like more. Spending time with him, especially the hours that do not involve work. She sighs, knowing that he won't be there this morning to do so.

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A cup of coffee, two sugars and a hint of vanilla, in her hands, she building up the courage to see him. It's an apology coffee, she knows that, but it was better that going empty handed. She looks to her right, but the office is empty. "Gretchen," she greets his secretary as she continues to her old cubicle, "is he in yet?" The older woman examines her face. "I'm sorry, Red. "He said he needed to go somewhere this morning" she mumbles and apologetic smile on her lips. "Ooh," Donna mumbles her shoulders hanging low now. "Uhm.. is it okay if I?" she continues pointing at the cup of coffee in her hand. "Of course, Red," Gretchen confirms.

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Harvey sighs as he looks around him. He's there again, on that bench. But this time even the sound of the waves and the wind playing with the masts don't make him feel completely at rest. Not in the same way he had felt that night, when she was curled up against him. Her head in the crook of his neck, her hand on his chest. He can still smell the vanilla scent, even after taking more than one shower. He's just too stubborn to connect the dots, to realize that all he really needs to feel okay is her. That it has always been her and always will be her.

.

"Good day, Mr. Specter," Gretchen greets her boss when he finally shows up for work that day. "Gretchen," he nods as he enters his office, immediately being followed by his secretary. She moves in front of him, demonstratively placing the files on his desk, just to take a look at the cup of coffee that was still standing there. She reads the message on it then, her heart making a little jump when she realizes Donna followed her advice.

Harvey walks around his desk, his eyes fixated on the cup of coffee. He doesn't have to read the message to know it's hers. He knows he should smile about it, especially when he reads the little message in her handwriting. 'I really did break up with Mitchell – D' But somehow he doesn't allow himself to do so, he just takes a sip from the coffee. Letting out a sigh when her realizes the coffee is already cold. He can't help but think about how symbolic it all is, he's always too late.

He lets himself fall down in his chair, letting out another breath. "Gretchen," he mumbles as he notices how she's still there. "Mr. Specter," she starts, "about my two week vacation –" He looks up to her then, "Yes you're leaving tomorrow. What about your vacation?" he asks a bit annoyed. "I was wondering," the older woman starts again, trying to find the words to put this, "would you like me to find a temp or should I ask Miss Paulsen if she could help out the coming days?" He swallows at the mention of her name. "No," he mumbles, "uhm.. no. I'll be fine. It's just two weeks."

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Jessica looks up from the files in front of her as she watches the older woman enter her office. "Gretchen," the managing partner greets her, "how's he doing?" Gretchen smiles, "better. A bit. But he said no to asking Miss Paulsen fall in for me." Jessica shakes her head, letting out a sigh. "So god damn, stubborn," she mumbles out loud. "I'll think of something, Gretchen," she decides then, "have a great holiday."

.


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The next day Harvey is swamped under paper work and he doesn't even pay close attention as to who's entering his office. But the sound her shoes make on the floor, the way she knocks are things he'll always remember. He doesn't have to look up to know she's there, but he does. He wants to see her even if it means it will take him another hour to finally be concentrated on these files again. He smiles and whispers her name.

She walks closer to his desk then, but still keeping more distance than in the old days. "Harvey," she mumbles, "do you need me to help with anything? With Gretchen being on a holiday." He swallows at hearing her question and he would love nothing more to have her back at his desk, but if he wants a chance with her at everything, he knows that everything does not include work. Not anymore. "No," he mumbles his answer surprising Donna, "I'll manage. Thanks for offering, Donna." "Okay, " she replies a bit confused. "But really anything," she whispers. He just nods as he watches her walk away.

.

"Harvey," the managing partner calls him as she walks up to his desk, "I need you to handle the suit against McKernon Motors." He looks up to his fellow name partner, "I gave their business to Louis and Mike, why do you need me to handle it if Louis is still here?" he asks confused. "Because," Jessica mumbles, "Louis is replacing me at a conference at Harvard." He laughs then, "you're letting Louis fall in for you? Why don't you pick an intern," he mocks. She sighs, "Harvey, just do this please," she continues as she throws the file on his desk.

.


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Three days of work further and he wishes it was him who would leave for Harvard in half a day. The case against his old friend proves to be anything but simple and without extra hands he can barely manage everything. It's been a long time since he had to do everything by himself, well never completely by himself. He always had her, and he can't help but think how much faster he'd be able to solve this case if she'd be there helping him. Rereading files, she always had an eye for detail which proved helpful on more than one occasion.

He can't believe his feet are dragging him to her desk. He doesn't want to, he really doesn't want to ask her for help. Because he knows that's basically doing what he did twelve years ago; asking her to come work for him. And now after all this time, that they're finally not working together and there actually might be a chance for them it's the last thing he wants to do, but he hasn't slept in the past two days. The suit is just getting more and more complicated and explaining his work methods to an intern is something he really doesn't have the time for.

"Harvey," she greets him as she sees him walk towards her desk. "Donna," he mumbles letting his head hang down, "I'm .. I'm sorry, but.." he cannot even pronounce the words. "Is everything okay?" she asks concerned, he's almost having the same look on his face the first time she sat behind this desk, minus the sweat on his temple. "Could I take you up on that offer?" he asks, his voice sounding apologetic. "I have this case," he continues shaking his head, "Donna, I'm drowning." She reaches for his hand then, her head tilted to the left a bit. "Okay," she whispers," I'll be there on Monday."

.

He waits for her at the elevator's that Monday morning, two cups of coffee in his hand. One for him and one for her; it's the only order he knows by heart. His heart skips a beat as he hears the ding indicating the elevator has reached the floor, meaning she'll step out of it soon. She spots him instantly, and a smile appears on her face. In twelve years he rarely waited for her to arrive, yet it was the second Monday in a row he did that. "I thought you were drowning in work," she teases him, signalling how he's just waiting there. "I am," he confirms as they walk side by side to his office. He stops in front of her old cubicle and hands her the cup of coffee. He wants to say something along the lines of how glad he is to have her back, but he doesn't, knowing those would be the exact words to make her leave again. "Thank you Donna," he whispers walking into his office. She watches him sit down, as she lets her hands move over her old desk. A place that's been her home for a very long time. He looks at her then and he can't help but give her a wink, just like the good old days.

He smiles looking at his watch, she's only been back an hour, but it feels like his workload has been halved already. It hasn't, but having her around just makes things easier. He doesn't have to ask, she just does. Just like she used to. He wants to celebrate it and for a second he thinks about taking her to Del Posto that night. Have dinner together, just like they used to do on the day she moved to his desk. But it's only temporary and he doesn't want to give her the wrong idea; that he only cares about her working for him, because he doesn't. It has never been just that. .

"Hey," he mumbles as she enters his office, a box with files in her hand. "Hi," she replies placing the box on his table, "how's the case coming along?" He doesn't answer her question, instead he just looks at her. A smile appearing on his face. "What are you smiling about?" she wonders walking towards him. "Nothing," he mumbles. "I'm just happy," he adds the room falling into a comfortable silence.

"How about we order from that shitty Thai place you love?" he asks breaking the silence, leaning back in his chair. She smiles at him. "Is that an order or a request?" she inquires her hand already reaching for his phone. He shakes his head recognizing the words she said to him last time, but he's pretty sure she doesn't have a date tonight. And if she had, it should be with him. "A request," he answers his eyes meeting hers. "Okay," she mumbles bringing his phone to her ear, the number of the restaurant already dialled.

She kicks of her shoes as she settles herself down on the couch, a box of chicken noodles in her hand. Harvey follows her move after he put on one of his father's records. "Thank you, Harvey," she tells him, her words and the position they're sitting in bringing him back to that evening at her place. It's months ago, but it feels like yesterday. "Don't Donna," he mumbles letting his elbows rest on his knees, "if anything, I should be thanking you. For everything." She smiles, reaching for her glass of scotch and handing him his. "To twelve years and a couple of days," she toasts. "To the future," he adds clinking his glass against hers.

She listens to song on the record that is currently playing, she can't help but notice how it's the same song they danced to just a week ago. "I can't believe that's the only time we ever danced together," she mumbles, her eyes avoiding his at the moment. "Really?" he counters, but he knows it's true. Surely he'd remember it if they'd danced together. He gets of the couch, extending his hand to her. "What are you doing?" she whispers, her gaze meeting his, her hand travelling faster than her brain can register. She only notices she had extended her hand when she feels his skin against hers. "I'm changing that count," he whispers, pulling her in his arms.

Jessica reads the message from Louis in her inbox, sighing as she reads how things already got a bit messed up at the conference. "Dammit Louis," she mumbles out loud, thinking Harvey might have been right after all. She can only hope this sacrifice she made won't harm the firm any further, but most importantly it was for a good cause. Her hopes only confirmed as she walks by the name partners office. The soft sound of what she knows to be his father's playing coming out of the room, she witnesses the two of them slowly dancing around. His arms wrapped around the redhead, hers around him. "Finally," Jessica mumbles, shaking her head and heading home.

.


.

Each day of that week they grow a little closer. Each day a little bit more of their witty banter returns. Each day feels more like how it used to be, but only the good times. She smiles when she sees that the light of the intercom has been turned on again, knowing that that wasn't the case with Gretchen.

She brings him his coffee in the mornings and he buys her a bagel during lunch. During the lunches she now joins him, a hour in Central Park just the two of them. It feels like a date, but it isn't, cause nothing happens. Neither of them daring to take that first step.

She fixes his hair and his tie again before a meeting. He catches himself smiling by just looking at her and she does the same when she looks at him, they've just fallen in the same pattern they've been in for the past twelve years. Never looking at each other at the exact same time. He wonders if their timing is still off, is it's too soon after everything. Or just too late in general.

She can't ignore how different working for him is this time around. It's the same, yet it's different. He doesn't assume or expect things anymore. He asks and he thanks her, he tells her everything that's going on. And for the first time she feels that he isn't keeping things from her, not really. Except that one thing they've been dancing around for months now. Those three words they've both said, but never repeated.

The light night drinks in the office return and on Thursday morning she patiently waits for him in court. He stops in his tracks when he spots the redhead waiting in the hallway. "Hey," he mumbles when he's next to her, "why are you here? I thought I'd see you at the firm?" he asks, confused. She smiles at him then, holding the can opener in front of him. "You're going to court," she reasons placing the box of thumbtacks in his hands. He just smirks at her and thinks that if he wasn't already in love with her he would have fallen for her right now. Now that, even after everything has happened, she shows up to do what he never dared to ask her again, the ritual. It just isn't the right place, not time to tell her.

He returns to the firm later that afternoon, a big grin on his face. Even though the entire case took several hours, he's never won a case so easily and he can't help but think it's because of her. Because of the ritual, because she believes in him. She takes in his smile, a sparkle in his eyes she hasn't seen in a while. "I take it you won?" she asks, walking towards him. "Of course," he gloats looking at her, "why don't you take the rest of the day of?" he offers. She smiles at him, "You sure?" asks. "I am," he answers his hand reaching for her arm. "Thanks, Harvey," she whispers placing a kiss on his cheek.

He turns around and watches her walk away. His cheek still burning from the contact of her lips, his hands shaking. His heart pounding in his chest in a way only she could cause. Because it's her. It's always been her and will always be her. He knows he should make a move. Soon.

.


.

The sun's shining and it's warm. Warmer than it's been in a long time. The news has been talking about a possible heatwave hitting New York, but he doesn't care much for the weather. Every moment with her is heatwave. His heart in flames, the chaos of his mind floating away on the waves of her voice. Normally he'd work day in day out, no matter the circumstances, but not today. Today he waits for her outside her apartment, with his own car. He's wearing kaki short and a white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up.

Donna almost doesn't recognize him when she steps outside her apartment building. "I didn't think I'd live to see the day Harvey Specter wears shorts," she smiles, shaking her head. "Yeah about that," he mumbles, "you kind of missed the dress code memo," he continues pointing at her outfit. "I'm sorry?" she replies, questioning his face. "We're taking the day off," he clarifies. "So you taking the day off means you can fill in mine?" she asks.

"No," he mumbles, "but I need.. " he pauses for a second. "I was hoping you would join me," he continues, "I would like your opinion on something." She smiles then. "Okay," she whispers. "Just let me get changed," she mumbles pointing at the door again. Harvey nods and just waits leaning against his mustang. He watches her return in a white summer dress, with a very bare back, losing his breath for a couple of seconds before he regains his posture. He gets up then and opens the door for her, making the mistake to actually look at her shoulder blades. The freckles on her skin, the ones he once traced with his fingers. He licks his lips and swallows as he walks around the car, to take place in the driver's seat.

.

"I know it was my decision to step down, for the firm," he tells her, for you, he adds in his head, "but during those thirty days I realised that being a lawyer is all I am and all I have." She feels her heart clench in her chest, how could he be so wrong. "Harvey," she whispers. "It's not all you have," she mumbles, but she doesn't finishing her sentence. You have me, remains unspoken.

"And," she continues, "being a lawyer might be a big part of you, but it's definitely not all you are. You're also a huge sports and cars fan. You enjoy music and I dare say you even enjoy dancing even though you claim you don't. You're funny, you always make me laugh, you're loyal and .." she pauses for a second. "Most importantly there's a side of you, you don't really show to others. You're caring," she smiles.

He takes in her words and nods, there are a million things he wants to say to her, but they all come down to one thing. That he's in love with her, but he doesn't dare to say it. Not while he's driving down the high way, not when there's no way out if everything goes to shit. "Did you take a lesson with Paula," he jokes. "My uhm.. –" She whispers that she knows. That she knows about the panic attacks, that Paula is his therapist. "I've met her." He questions her face, he didn't know that she knew. "I figured you would have told me if you wanted me to know," she whispers, "I didn't want to push the subject." He looks away then, mumbling a thank you.

"Do you still have them… the uh… the panic attacks," she asked then. Curious, because she never knew the full story and they're finally talking. "No," he whispers, "no, they stopped." She smiles at his words and she's glad for him. She can only imagine what he has been through and a part of her feels guilty for not being there for him at those moments. "Do you still go and talk to her?"

"Last week," he mumbles. "About how all this came together to one thing. You," he whispers, his eyes firmly on the road ahead. "I'm sorry," she whispers, placing her hand on his knee, "I'm sorry my leaving is what triggered them." He swallows at the touch of her fingers on his leg. "Donna, no," he mumbles, now covering her hand with his. "If anyone's sorry, it is me."

She catches a breath then, he has never really apologized so sincerely before. She tries to look him in the eye, but his are still focussed on the road ahead. She redirects her gaze to their hands, not really sure what to think about it, what it means. The way his fingers are caressing her skin. He looks to his right then, just a second too late for his gaze to meet hers. "I'm sorry I couldn't answer your question… back then," he tells her, "I'm sorry I pushed you away," he adds mumbling.

Her heart skips a beat at him mentioning that moment, the one that changed everything they had. How he slightly paused before pronouncing the words 'back then'. She wants to ask about now. If he could answer it now, but she doesn't as she feels him lift his hand again, bringing it back to the steering wheel. She looks up again, but his eyes are looking at the road once more. She wonders if it was all worth it, all the trouble they went through to end up here. Them still in their old pattern of steeling looks and touches, words still being left unspoken. Still not as in sync as they used to be, but the feelings are still there. If anything the feelings even enhanced and she wonders if the time will ever be right.

He can practically hear her think, the words just not reaching his ears, but he still knows what's going on in her mind, it's about them. Here and now, why did he bring her here? What are his exact intentions? And if he has to be honest, he doesn't really know. He wants things to change between them, that's the main reason he asked her along, but he wonders if the timing is right.

He wonders if he gave her enough time after Mitchell? It's only been two weeks after all. He wants to respect her and not push her into anything, but it's also two weeks since their kiss. Nothing has happened yet and it's driving him insane. He feels he has been placed, maybe even placed himself, in the friend zone. A zone he has been in now for two weeks.

Two weeks that might even feel longer than the past twelve years combined, especially when they have moments like the one they just shared. The way she placed her hand on his knee, the words they exchanged. He wonders if those small moments are enough for them to finally get there. After all what's two weeks on twelve years, but on the other hand he wonders what would happen if he would just kiss her. If they would cross the line again, maybe that's all they need to do to get there. But he doesn't, because he also knows it's potentially the one thing that could ruin them forever. She was the one with that rule after all.

"So, where are we going?" she finally asks to break the silence. Comfortable silence, but still silence. She looks around at the changing surroundings now that they have left the busy streets of Manhattan. "To a place I used to go to all the time when I grew up," he explains, "we're almost there actually." She looks out of the window again, now realizing the signs he's following. "We're going to a harbour?" she asks in disbelief. She had not expected to be taken to a harbour by the best closer of the city. "I've not once heard you talk about it," she adds for clarification.

"We are," he confirms as he pulls up on the parking lot, a smile on his face as he takes in the surroundings. The memories rushing back to him as he tries to focus on the sound of the water, but this time it doesn't have the same effect it had on him all those other times. He looks at her then, finally realizing that it's her. That she is the one that calms him.

"My grandfather used to have a boat here," he explains opening the door for her, extending his hand to her. "Used to?" she whispers as she lets him help her get out of the car. She looks at him, waiting for his answer, but she sees how he's recalling memories she can only wonder of. Memories she can only hope he'll share with her one day. He nods then. "Yeah," he mumbles, "my dad had to sell it… college tuition… I always promised to buy it back, but …"

Donna smiles lightly then, remembering Gordon. "Hey, it's okay," she whispers squeezing his hand. "He's always been very proud of you. He told me all the time." He reproduces her smile, "I want to keep that promise," he continues as he turns her around and points at the Beneteau Oceanis 37. Donna looks up at down between him and the boat with the 'for sale' sign in the harbour. "You're serious?" she asked confused, "you're going to buy a boat?"

"I am," he smiles, "I need your opinion on it though first," he adds as he places his hand on the small of her back and directs her towards the docks. She doesn't ask why he specifically needs her opinion, but she can't help but smile because he does.

"Good morning, Mr. Specter," the sales agent says as he shakes Harvey's hand. "Mrs. Specter," the man continues reaching for Donna's hand. She freezes for a second, but shakes the man's hand non the less. Neither of them comment on his mistake. They've never corrected someone before, they never will. The salesman shows them around a bit. Ending with a comment on the amount of bedrooms on board, how it's the perfect type for a young family, before he lets the two of them go on a test sail.

.

"Do you ever think about it?" she asks sitting next to him on one of the benches in the cabin. "Think about what?" he wonders out loud not sure what she means with that question. "Kids," she whispers referring to the comment the salesman made about an hour ago. He looks away then, eyeing the boat. A conversation he once had with his grandfather in his mind.

'And when you're all grown up, you'll bring your own children to this boat.'

"Yes," he whispers softly, "that day, if it may come, would be one of the best days of my life." She smiles at him, picturing the moment in her mind. "You'd cry the second you'd see your little daughter or son," she teases him, but she knows he would. "Maybe, but it would be happy tears from looking at you and the miracle in my arms," he answers without thinking what he's actually saying. "Me?," she questions him, her eyebrows raised.

Harvey swallows now only realizing he said that out loud. "Uhm well you started this topic," he tries to defend himself. "Good," she mumbles getting up and walking back inside. "Good," he repeats inaudible, his lips slightly curling up.

Harvey leans over the edge of the cabin as he watches her sit at the platform, her legs hanging in the water. He listens to the tune she's humming and it sounds familiar but he can't really place it. "What are you doing?" he asks her. "Just sitting here," she replies throwing her head back to look at him. He smiles. "Well you better watch out or you'll get wet," he warns her. "I won't," she chirps back, laying herself down on the platform.

Harvey shakes his head and walks back inside hearing her scream out an 'oh my god'. He walks back to see what's wrong, and he has to bite his tongue at the image in front of him. "Don't you dare laugh," she warns him as she walks towards him, drenching the water out of her hair. Harvey opens his mouth to comment but he can't, stunned by the view. Her white dress is soaked and clinging to her body. He can see her red panties shining through the fabric. Subconsciously he follows her curves with his eyes, his gaze now resting on her chest. His assumptions when he saw her appear in the dress merely confirmed. She wasn't wearing a bra.

"My eyes are up here, Specter," she tells him. "Sorry," he mumbles, his tongue tracing his lips. "Here, take my shirt," he offers undoing the buttons and handing it to her before she can even reply. "Thanks," she mumbles as she turns around then, placing his shirt on the chair in front of her. Harvey watches her lift dress, removing it from her body. Showing him even more of that bare back that has been teasing him all day. The memories of the other time rushing back as he sees her lean a little bit forward to get his shirt, showing some side boob in the process.

She reaches for his shirt then, but didn't put it on. Not yet. Instead she holds the fabric in front of her and reaches for a bottle of sunscreen from her bag. "Harvey," she mumbles looking over her shoulder to him. "Uhm.. yeah," he mumbles waking up from his thoughts as he now meets her eye. "Could you," she whispers handing him the bottle.

He doesn't respond, instead he just takes the bottle from her hand and steps towards her. Swallowing at the thought he's about to touch her bare back. He divides some sun screen over his hands, before he starts applying it to her back. She cringes at the initial contact between them, her shoulders moving away from his touch. "What's wrong?" he whispers, surprised.

"Nothing, the sun screen is just cold … that's all," she replies. "Okay," he mumbles as he continues massaging her back. His hands subconsciously making the same patterns he did the other time. This time she closes her eyes under his touch, her body completely relaxing as his fingers are buried in her neck. "Thank you," she whispers a minute later, now looking over her shoulder again, as she notices how he had already stopped applying sunscreen and was now purely massaging her shoulders.

He nods and smiles at her, letting her go and taking a couple of steps back. He just watches her put on his shirt, how she sits down and applies the sun screen to her long legs. She can sense how his eyes are directed to her, feel how his gaze is burning her skin. But all she does is smile, happy she still has that effect on him. Once she's done she looks at him, a content look on his face. She tip toes towards him, the bottle of sun screen in her hand. "Do you need me to?" she asks eyeing his bare torso. "No. "I'll be okay, Donna," he whispers. "Okay," she mumbles placing the bottle down and walking towards the upper deck.

.

Harvey watches her tanning on the front deck. Swallowing when he realizes she has taken of his shirt again and is laying on her stomach. He takes a moment to just look at her, he knows he shouldn't but she's right there and after all those dreams he can barely believe the real example is in front of his nose. How she's even more beautiful in real life. He turns around then, grabbing himself a drink as he sits down in one of the chairs of the cabin.

Half an hour later he starts to feel the afternoon sun burn on his skin and he wishes he had agreed upon her offer. Especially since he doesn't have any other clothes to put over his shoulders. He sighs as he spots the bottle, realizing there's no other option than to let her rub some sun screen on his back. He already wonders if he can survive her touch, touching her is one thing. He's in control at that point, but her touching him is a whole other story. He noticed it when she kissed him, when she held his hand. And even earlier this morning, when she placed her hand on his knees. She has this effect on him that only she can cause.

He sighs again, grabbing the bottle on his way towards her. "Geeez, Donna," he exclaims as he notices how she must have turned around in her sleep. Giving him a full view of her naked breast. Donna's eyes immediately pop open at the sound of his voice. They make eye contact and she can't help but notice how his mouth has dropped a little, his eyes fixed on her. How his face has turned slightly red, she just isn't sure if he's blushing or if it's the sun. She then finally realizes why he's looking at her like that.

"OMG," she exclaims, covering up her breast with her left arm, wrapping his shirt around her shoulders with the other. "Ooh, Donna.. come on," he mumbles, "it's not something I haven't seen before." He brushes his hand through his hair, "they're perkier than I remember," he adds jokingly. "You're impossible," she hisses as she tries to walk away, but a wave hits the boat and she loses her balance in the process.

He drops the bottle and catches Donna in one swift movement from falling over board. "I've got you," he whispers as he holds her in his arms. Her bare chest is pressed against his. Her arms around his shoulders and his hands are on her back. She doesn't move and neither does he. They breath as one, only looking the other in the eye. Her top lip is just touching his bottom lip, but neither of them makes a move.

"I'm sorry," he whispers then, turning his head a bit away. He moves his hands from her waist to the edge of his shirt, pulling it further over her shoulders. He takes a step back, still holding onto the piece of clothing, his eyes remain fixated on her. He has covered her breasts with the shirt now, but he can still see the skin in between them. His fingers trail along the buttoned placket until he reaches the end. His fingers slightly touch her lower abandon as he carefully starts buttoning the shirt, just leaving the top two buttons open. "There," he whispers.

She just nods at him, her skin still burning from his touch, yet already missing the warmth of his body against hers. She looks at him again, all the embarrassment and anger she felt under a minute ago, complete vanished. "What did you need?" she mumbles then, realizing he had walked over to ask her something. "I Uhm .." he stutters, he can't even remember what he was about to ask her. Donna spots the bottle of sun screen near his feet, she reaches for it. "Did you want me to?" she whispers holding the bottle in front of him.

.

She lets her hands run over his back, her fingers massaging his neck. His shoulders and she can feel him relax under her touch. Her fingers play with his hair for a second before she guides him back down. Letting his head rest on her lap. He's confused for a few seconds, but all can do is replicate her smile as she looks at him. Her fingers still softly massaging his shoulders and neck.

She continues with the area around his collarbones before she also applies some sun screen to the rest of his torso. Her hands ever so slightly trailing lower on his body, his breathing getting heavier by the minute.

"Donna," he mumbles as her fingers just slightly disappear under the elastic band of his boxers. He lets out a breath, to stunned to move by her actions. With a victorious smile on her lips, she lets her fingers trail along his v-line back to his torso, until she reaches his face.

She smiles leaning forward a bit more, before her fingers start massaging his temples. Her fingers moving lower to his cheeks, until she lets her thumb go over his top lip and instinctively he places a kiss against it. She smiles at his movement and moves her head closer to his. Replacing her thumb with her own lips. She kisses him, her nose touching his chin, the fingers of her left hand running down his neck. He closes his eyes and kisses her back. His head arching back a bit more, his hand covering her fingers.

She pulls back for a second, just to look at him. His eyes are sparkling and he smiles, just like she is. But when she moves her head back towards him, he stops her. Not because he doesn't want to kiss her, but he wants to be able to touch her. To hold her in his arms when he kisses he. "Donna, wait. Let's –" he mumbles, but those words were enough to give her the wrong idea.

She sits back up, removing his head from her lap. "Seriously, Harvey," she exclaims as she get up angry. He looks at her, leaning on his elbow. "Donna, wait," he calls stretching his arm to reach for hers, but she already starting walking over the deck. He quickly gets up and follows her. "I don't know what you want anymore," she argues as she continues towards the cabin.

"Donna," he mumbles, trying to reach for her arm. "No, Harvey," she counters turning towards him once she's inside, "you don't get to Donna me. Not anymore," she nearly cries pushing her fists down. "Seriously, what do you want," she continues leaning against the kitchen counter.

He rushes down the stairs after her. "You," he tells her his hands now holding her wrists in place to keep her calm. But all it took was that one word. She freezes on the spot, swallowing before she lifts her head. Her eyes meeting his and all she sees is a light in his eyes she hasn't seen before. He moves his hands over her arms, until he reaches her face. Placing a strand of her auburn locks behind her ear, he lifts her chin. "You," he whispers. "You're the only one I want," he adds before he kisses her this time. She closes her eyes, kissing him back. She doesn't have all the answers she wants. Not yet, but she got the most important one. And that's enough. For now.

He feels how she wraps her arms around his neck. How she pulls him closer, how she's pressing her body against his. Both of them pull back for a second to catch a breath, smiling as their heads are leaning against each other. They stare into one another's eyes, both afraid to say the words that had driven them apart, but maybe tonight words can be left unspoken. He kisses her again then, his hands trailing down her back as he lifts her up by her thighs and carries her to one of the bedrooms on board.

Their lips savour each other while he lays her down on the bed, his lips now moving to her neck. Her fingers pressed in his bare shoulders as his fingers are undoing the buttons of the shirt he had closed not even half an hour ago. He took a second to appreciate the view. "You should be glad I caught you back there," he whispers letting his chin rest between her breast. "Otherwise you might had gotten a sun burn," he whispers, his lips now on her nipple. "Harv," she moans, arching her back, "just shut up…" she mumbles, burying her hands in his air.

He continues placing kisses down her body, stopping just above her panty line. His hands taking over from there, noticing how wet she already was turning him on even more. She moans his name again as he kisses the spot between her legs, before he takes the piece of red lace between his teeth and pulls it down. His hands only helping when he reaches her knees, pulling the fabric away completely. He crawls back up next to her, his lips attached to hers again as she pulls down his pants and boxers. Her hand on his back as she pulls him closer, arching her back as she feels his arousal pressing against her.

She sucks on his bottom lip and manages to flip him around, pinning him down on the bed. Her right hand holding his left arm against the bed above his head, their fingers interlocked as she leans forward kissing him again. "Condom," she whispers on his lip. "W..wallet," he mumbles, his body shivering under her touch as he point to his pants on the ground. "One. Second," she mumbles in between kisses, before she rolls of him.

"Donna?" he mumbles as he leans on his elbows looking at her. He's already exhausted, and wonders if he'll actually survive this. She turns around then, opening the condom by ripping it open between her teeth. The pure sight of it turns him on even more. "Donna," he sighs again.

"Geez, Specter.. Patience," she gloats as she climbs between his legs, and he can't help but think about how much this resembles the dreams he had about her, yet it's completely different. This was real. She places kisses down his length and licks the top before she rolls the condom on him with her mouth. "Donna, fuck," he mumbles as she lets go of him again, but she just smiles at him, her fingers drawing patterns on his skin as she moves herself up.

His hands go over her lower back and butt as her lips are buried in his neck. She places wet kisses down his cheek to his ear. "Do me, Specter," she whispers in his ear, a request he's more than happy to answer. He turns both of them around, his lips savouring hers again as he slides inside her. Her rips roll against his with every thrust he's giving, alternatively locking their eyes or lips. He feels her walls tightening around him and he pulls her even closer with his hands on her hips, increasing the pace until she reaches her orgasm.

"Harrveeeey," she moans out his name, and he can't help but smile as he kisses her then. His own orgasm following soon as he moans her name on her lips. Giving her one last kiss before he collapses on top of her. She holds him in her arms as his head rests on her chest, both heavily breathing in the same rhythm.

Donna places a kiss on the top of his head as she hears his breaths returning back to normal, and she knows he's fallen asleep inside her arms. She swallows, thinking about how tonight she was his completely. How today they were all she has ever wanted them to be. How they changed, yet remained the same. Still not saying the things that need to be said.

She knows she loves him, she also knows he loves her, but somehow she can't help but wonder. Cause wondering is all she has ever done when it came to them. Wondering is all she knew. Was it even possible for them to change the nature of their relationship after twelve years? Would this be a lasting treasure, or was it just a long overdue pleasure?

She wipes away the tear forming in her eye, as she whispers "will you still love me tomorrow?" It's the only question she needs an answer to; it's all she needs to know. Her lips place another kiss on top of his head. "Because I will," she whispers, "I'll still love you tomorrow."

- The End


Tonight you're mine completely

You give your love so sweetly

Tonight the light of love is in your eyes

But will you love me tomorrow

Is this a lasting treasure

Or just a moment's pleasure

Can I believe in the magic of your sighs

Will you still love me tomorrow

Tonight with words unspoken

You say that I'm the only one

But will my heart be broken

When the night meets the morning sun

I'd like to know that your love

Is love I can be sure of

So tell me now and I won't ask again

Will you still love me tomorrow?