So hello everyone! Happy #Darveyweek.
This one shot needs some explaining, because even though I'm all for AU meetings or settings for Darvey. I NEVER pictured myself writing THIS. But well, the other day I told Ana about this M/H fic (awesome writing Cece :P) I'd once come across and lots of tears from laughter further, she asked me to write a Darvey version of that and that turned into this (trying not to give away too much of the plot)
So let's put the financial aid options for paying college intuition aside.. cause I needed a plot LMAO.. but here it is. AU first meeting of Donna and Harvey.. Ana, wife this one is for you! LMAO AWKWARD.. I'm gonna disappear in a hole in the ground, but I hope you'll enjoy it anyway. And maybe leave a review? x
(AND if you read 'That Goddamn Night' don't forget to read the second part 'Long Time Coming' on Ana's (donnaspecter) account)
He opens the door, his duffle bag with boxing gear hanging on his shoulder. He mumbles a "hello" but is merely greeted by the echo of his own voice in the empty hallway. He lets out a sigh, not even knowing why he for once expected things to be different, but they aren't.
Taking two steps at the time he climbs the stairs, his bag landing somewhere on the floor of his bedroom and he rolls his eyes as he spots his younger brother sitting in his lounge chair. "Marcus," he hits brothers leg with his knee, trying to pass through and the younger man reluctantly pulls back his legs.
"Where is she?" he mumbles, letting himself fall down on his bed. His hands behind his head he hears his younger brother say the same words as usual. I don't know. He lets out a sigh, staring at the ceiling before he looks at Marcus again. "What are you even doing in my room?"
"This," the younger man signals waving an envelope up and down with his arm. Harvey frowns for a second, but the soon spots the logo on the corner of the envelope. Harvard. "Give it," he orders, stretching his arms. "Marcus, give it to me," he calls again before the younger man finally gives in.
The envelope is torn to shreds in mere seconds, his hands shaking a bit as he unfolds the sheet of paper. His eyes scan the document and a "holy shit," escaping his lips as his eyes rest on the line that reads he got accepted.
"You got in?" Marcus fires back, "you got in?" he pulls the letter from his brother's hands to see it for himself. "Of course I got in," Harvey counters sitting back up, a smirk smile plastered on his face. His right hand balls into fist and he briefly raises it in the air, mumbling a yes once more.
"Good luck paying that though," Marcus comments as he throws the letter back towards his brother, letting himself lean back in the lounge chair again. Harvey reaches for the pieces of paper again, scanning the content once more he swallows as he sees the amount that needs to be paid to finalize his transfer. With only ninety days to complete the payment. He knows he doesn't have that kind of money, his job in the mail room of Gordon Schmidt Van Dyke not paying enough to reach just half of that number.
He knows his father doesn't have that kind of money, he's just a musician. One that's touring most weeks of the year, just like now. His mother has a well-paying job, but they don't get along lately and he's knows there's no point, they don't have that kind of money.
He lets out a sigh, lifting his gaze to his brother he notices the cards in the younger man's hand. "I could try and win the money by playing poker," he counters then and Marcus laughs. "I'm serious," he mumbles, "I always win."
Marcus nods. "Okay but if that means I will finally be set free from my big loser brother, I will help you win that money." Harvey rolls his eyes at the younger man's words, knowing he doesn't mean anything of the first part. "Deal," Harvey extends his hand, making Marcus shake it.
He knows he's great at playing poker. In fact he's great at everything he does. He just didn't know Marcus would be this bad. For every two games he wins, the younger man loses and he now realises that the self-restraint he has, his brother lacks. Not knowing when the fold, when to quit, the pair of them almost losing more money than they make.
He lets out a sigh, pacing through the hallway between their two rooms. "Marcus," he knocks on the door waiting for him to open. "Marcus this isn't going to work. You need to stop playing cards." Marcus frowns, looking away. "I am just trying to help you," he counters.
"I.. I know," Harvey sighs, "but –"
"Well if you don't appreciate my help, then you should just find a job where you can make that kind of money," Marcus fires back. "No fucking job is going to make enough money in seventy days," he rolls his eyes, his hands thrown in the air.
"That's it!" Marcus exclaims, letting out a laugh. "What?" Harvey crooks his head, close to losing his patience with his brother. "You can always fuck your way to Harvard."
Harvey lets out a sigh, closing his eyes. "You can't possibly be serious," Harvey sighs gain, "I'm not going to sleep my way to Harvard." Marcus laughs once again, "well you can always stay here and screw your chance at going to Harvard, but then you'll never get out on top," he laughs to himself. "See what I did there."
Harvey throws his hands in the air, not even bothering to reply to his brother's suggestion. "You only have to do it once," Marcus calls after him. "Just film it, sell it and you're off to Harvard."
He isn't supposed to be here. Yes, he works here, but he isn't supposed to be here. On this floor. He might be law student, but not even the right school. Not yet. He knows what he's about to ask is ridiculous, he knows how competitive this business it.
He knows the reputation of this firm and how hard it is to get in even if you went to Harvard. Even if it was just for a position as summer associate. He knows he's just as good if not better than the guys his age walking this floor, the only thing they have in their advantage is the name of their school. But he got in.
He knocks on the door with the seven letter last name, he's heard that's the person to go to if you need something. He just hopes those rumours are true. "Yes?" a dark voice gets his attention and he enters the room. "Mr. Hardman," he greets the older lawyer.
He closes his eyes, his jaw clenching and his foot kicks a can that lingers on the Manhattan streets. He's a big man, he's an adult. He can deal with losing, not that he often loses, but he doesn't let it get the better of him. But this, this was different.
This wasn't just losing, this was getting laughed out of the room. Being used, that was what it was. Getting approved for a meeting with the great Daniel Hardman only to be let down. On purpose. It didn't matter that he studies law, that he got accepted for his masters at the pristine law school, nor the fact that he actually already worked at the damn firm.
His head leaning against the palm of his hand. His gaze moves from the acceptance letter on his desk to the calendar on his wall. The deadline still weeks away, yet fast approaching. Days slipping away, every chance taken at raising the money failed. No poker, no loan from the bank, no new job and there was still no point at even asking his parents. His brother's suggestion soon not sounding that ridiculous.
Donna has got no clue how she got here. How she got so desperate, desperate enough to do this. Something she told herself she'd never do. She's got no clue why she placed the ad, she doesn't even want to call it that. It was a desperate measure, but she's in desperate times.
Ever since her father lost all the family money, she's been taking care of herself. A job here, a job there. From walking newspapers, selling shoes, to working in a bar. To her current summer job as secretary in the District Attorney's office from Monday till Wednesday.
She walks into the bar he suggested to meet, she knows it's so wrong. Meeting with someone she's got no clue as to who it is. He said he would be wearing a rose of all things so she could recognize him, she rolls her eyes at just the thought. A rose.
She's almost sure she's going to meet a thirty year older pervert in a minute and she's really close to calling the whole thing off. Because this is not who she is and this isn't what she does, but there's this side of her that's curious. Curious to see who would even reply to this, her head scans the room.
Her eyes lingering on this young man at the bar for a second. He looks handsome from a distance, but there's no way on earth she's supposed to meet him. She takes a few steps further, scanning the room once more only now noticing the rose that's in the pocket of his jacket.
She walks up to him, a curious smile on her lips she stops right next to him. She feels his eyes drift off in her direction, but he doesn't speak. "You know, usually when someone says they'll bring a rose, it's supposed to be red," she smirks, "but I also expected a fifty year old pervert so I guess I can look past that."
He frowns for a second, just staring at her as she taps the rose in his jacket. "Theatregirl206," she whispers and he laughs, somehow relieved. No clue what he was expecting, but he wasn't expecting someone like her. Someone that looks like her. "Ooh so you think I'm attractive?" he counters turning towards her.
"No," she looks away, because she does. He's attractive. "I think you aren't a fifty your old pervert."
He laughs out loud this time. "True," he answers, "but I could still be a pervert," he's testing her. "No," she shakes her head, "you're not. I can tell," she gives him a small smile. She doesn't explain, but it's who she is. She reads people.
"Well," he smiles extending his hand towards her, "theatregirl206 -"
"Donna," she answers, her hand sliding against his. "Donna," he repeats swallowing, her touch sending a shiver down his spine, "I'm- "
"Hotgod," she counters using the name he used online, "yeah I know." He laughs again, this woman something different from what he expected, or pictured, but really he had no clue. "Harvey," he smiles. She looks at the drink in his hand and back up to him, noticing his eyes hadn't left her side for a second. "Why don't you buy me a drink and we can continue this conversation in the corner."
They talk about why they're doing this. Why she placed the ad and why he replied, both doing it for the money. Him to get in the school he wants, her to help her family. Her father. Both of them sporting understanding smiles on their faces as the other explains the why.
Neither of them has done anything like this before, both agreeing that it's something they would normally never do. But as much as it started as way to help themselves, two drinks later it's also about helping each other.
They don't discuss much details about what they're going to do, just setting some basic rules between them. The bar, even the corner booth, feeling a bit too public and they agree to meet later that week. On Friday, both of them having a day off from work.
He holds the door open for her and she smiles at him as she steps outside. The nature of their meeting so strange, neither knows how to say goodbye. He tries to shake her hand and she waves instead, turning around as she feels her cheeks blush.
She turns around abruptly then, it's on a whim but she lifts herself on her toes and she kisses him. Just pressing her lips against his and he's taken by surprise, but kisses her back eventually. When she pulls back, he's left standing there with his mouth agape.
She removes her lipstick from the corner of her mouth. "Makes it a little less awkward," she winks as she walks off. He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, his fingers touching his lips and he swallows. Still no clue as to what he's gotten himself into.
She texts him her address around lunch and when his phone buzzes he nearly jumps off his chair. He was nervous when he was waiting at home, nervous when he got her text and he's nervous now. He's surprised to learn she lives across the street from him. Further down across the street to be precise, but it's only a five minute walk. Just on the corner of where the separate houses like his parents change into larger apartment buildings.
He lets out breath, climbing the stairs he paces up and down the hallway a few times. Collecting his courage as he stops in front of her door. The numbers 206 staring at him. He lets his right elbow rest against the edge of the doorframe, his head casually leaning against that as he rings he bell with his other hand.
He hears something fall on the other side of the door, followed by a loud "shit" and he laughs as he hears her walk to the door. The second he notices the locks are being turned he is aware of the way he's standing and he leans back on his two feet. His hands buried in the pocket of his pants.
"Hi," she mumbles opening the door and he smiles his eyes locking with hers, he swallows thinking about the last time he saw her. His gaze drops over her body, noticing she's wearing a tank top and some shorts. Her legs are long.
She signals for him to come inside, warning him about the glass on the floor. "Sorry, the doorbell.. " she mumbles, "got me off guard. I.. I expected it to take longer for you to come over here." He kneels down wanting to help pick up the pieces, but she stops him.
Instead he answers her question. "Crossing the street doesn't take that long," he raises his shoulders and she looks up at him, her eyebrows raised. "The uhm.. houses further down the road, past the crossing with Carlton," he answers and she thinks for a few seconds before she nods.
She gets back up on her feet. "Do you want coffee? Or something else?" she mumbles and he answers with a sure, not really caring about what kind of drink she brings back for him. "Just sit down," she points at the couch," I'll be right back."
He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, his hands running up and down his legs he sits down on her couch. Waiting for her to return, she hands him a cup of coffee as she sits down next to him. "It's with vanilla," she whispers.
He smiles taking the cup from her hand, not commenting on how he doesn't take his coffee like that. Taking a sip instead. "Ooh this is good," he mumbles and she smiles at his words. "So.." she whispers then and he repeats the word. "We should make a plan."
She looks around, letting out a sigh before her eyes meet his again. "Okay so we'll do it here?" she mumbles and he nods. "Whatever is most comfortable for you," he swallows and she smirks, because even though the situation is ridiculous and she only knows him for the better part of a few hours he seems genuinely nice and caring.
"I'm the actress here," she laughs not willing to show she's actually nervous. "I thought you said you'd never done this before," he frowns and she nods. "True.. I never did this," neither of them able to pronounce what they're actually met for.
"I just.. If ..if you want to do it at your place that's good too," she offers and he shakes his head. "I uhm.. I live with my parents and little brother," he looks down at his own words. The woman on the other side of the couch can't be much younger than he is, but she already has her own place.
She gives him a small smile, "okay here it is."
"What for actress are you? Or what do you want to do?" he mumbles, suddenly wondering about that. He never really met anyone in this branch, her college at the other side of the campus where he follows his classes. "Theatre," she smiles, "classics mostly till this point. You know Shakespeare, costumes and everything."
He nods, a laughs escaping his lips. "We're not going a Shakespeare theme though."
"What?" she frowns, looking at him. "For the theme," he explains, "I mean there's got to be a theme of some sort. You know like a nurse and patient." She rolls her eyes at his parings. "Okay humour me, what theme would you have in mind for you and me?"
He lets out a sigh. "Ooh uhm.. I don't know, maybe I could be the boss and you'd be my secretary." She looks at him shaking her head, a laugh escaping her lips. "I would never work for you." He frowns, her words hurting him more than he wants to let on or thought they would.
"You said you work in the D.A.'s office now, I could totally be your boss.. once I'm graduated," the last part added in a whisper. She rolls her eyes. "Okay fine. You can be my boss in this," she signals the room around them, "but just so you know. I'll be long gone from the D.A.'s office before you even get a chance to work there."
He smirks moving closer. "Can't wait to have you work on my desk."
She lets out a laugh, her head falling back in the process and he can't help but look at her. "That's the worst line ever," she laughs looking at him. "That's not going in the script."
"Script?" he frowns. "Yeah, a script. You know the lines one's supposed to say," she explains, and she's talking with her hands and it's making him nervous. "It's not about what's being said, it's about sex," he counters.
"I .. I know," she looks away, "but there should be some sort of introduction. Something people say."
"You have seen movies like this, right?" he comments and her mouth drops a little but she doesn't comment. "Wait," he frowns, "you.. you want to make this film without having seen anything?" She looks away, words failing her and he gets up. "What.. what are you doing?" she whispers looking over her shoulder.
"That needs to change. Wait here."
Harvey shows up at her apartment again half an hour later, his hands behind his back and a smirk smile on his face when she opens the door again. "Harvey," she chirps as she shakes her head. "Donna," he repeats in the same tone, removing the DVD from his back he holds it in front of her.
Her eyes widening a little. "You're definitely not a gentleman," she shakes her head faking annoyance. "You weren't expecting flowers now were you?" he counters and she rolls her eyes. "I meant you walked the street with that in your hand," she points at the DVD.
Only then realising they're still lingering in her door way as she hears the lock from the apartment across from her open. Her hand falls on his arm and she quickly pulls him inside, closing the door behind him. "I didn't know you were so excited to watch this."
"You're impossible," she shakes her head taking the DVD from his hand.
If there was a hole she could disappear in right now she would, clinging a pillow to her chest she's not sure where she's supposed to look. Her laptop screen, him or just look in the distance. "Ooh god this.. is insane," she lets her hand run over her head.
"Yeah, well.." he mumbles looking at her frown from the corner of his eye, "it's sex."
She shakes her head. "That's no… there's no tension. No chemistry.. no what if. No almost kiss, with one of them turning away, the other.." she lets her arms fall down on her lap and he's the one to frown at her now.
"So that turns you on?" she comments looking at him. "I.. uhm.." he pauses turning his head to look at her, her earlier words reminding him of how she kissed him a couple of days ago and he swallows. "No," he frowns in realisation, "not really, not in the same way."
She slides the piece of paper towards him over the dining room table. Studying his face as he reads her handwriting. "There isn't much text," he teases her and she rolls her eyes. "Thought improvisation might be better anyway."
He studies her face. "If you want to improvise why did you write down what happens where? Not that I'm complaining about any of what you pictured," he smirks. "Because we have to keep the range of the camera in mind," she counters.
"Are you sure you never did this before?" he comments and she slaps his arm. "Stop it," she looks away. His hand falls around her wrist, making her look at him again. "It's going to be a great." She swallows not commenting on his words, his touch already driving her insane.
They walk side by side, both holding a cardboard box from the Thai place on the corner in their hands. "I always thought that was a shitty restaurant, but it's pretty good," he mumbles in between bites. Turning around he sits down on the concrete steps in front of her apartment building. Enjoying the last moments of the summer sun.
"Told you to trust me," she counters stealing a piece of chicken from his box with her chopsticks. Eating it in one swift motion, she smirks as he stares at her, his head following her movement until she sits down next to him. "We're making this freaking movie I have to trust you."
She rolls her eyes, "am I not the one who should be trusting you?" she counters and he thinks for a second. "And what about that third scene where you –"
"Okay, okay," she laughs, "we need to trust each other," she comments extending her hand to him. "Teamwork." He shakes her hand, "teamwork."
"We should focus on outfits and decoration," she comments a couple of minutes later, "to make it look like an office. Books or something." He nods, "We could get my study books and I have a suit that could work." She jumps up throwing the empty box in the trashcan down the street.
"Well," she signals and he looks at her, his eyes trailing over her long legs once more and he gets up. "What?" he mumbles walking towards her. She points further down the street, in the direction he came from. "If we're going to do this tomorrow, we better get your stuff over to my place."
She moves through his house, following him up the stairs. It's clear that this floor is shared by two men. Him and his brother, it's darker and most pieces of furniture more streamlined than her own style. It's messier too, but she can't help but notice how his stuff wouldn't even look misplaced in her apartment.
She shakes her head, pushing away the thought because that's not why she's here. That's not going to happen, in fact they'll never meet again after this. That's what they agreed up on.
They enter his room and she turns around on her spot, inspecting it. "You have a nice place," she comments and he smiles, "you do too." He points at some books on the table near his window and she nods walking over to pick them up. He sees her struggle with the stack in her hands and walks towards her, taking them from her hands. "Thanks," she whispers, looking away.
"Anything else?" she asks and he summarizes some stuff, grabbing a few cardboard boxes he helps her stack his stuff. She reaches for a baseball on his desk. "You play?" she comments, letting the ball move around in her hand and he nods.
"Yeah, little now. Could have gone pro if it wasn't for my shoulder," he comments and she gives him a small smile. "Sorry," she whispers and he smiles. "Ooh it's okay, still box though. You?" he ask, closing the box. "Yoga," she answers, stepping forward to grab one of the box.
Both of them chatting away, sharing random stuff as they walk back to her apartment. After placing the boxes on her table, he tells her he should be going home and she nods. There's nothing more to discuss or do for them today, yet it feels weird to say goodbye now.
Both not entirely sure how to act around the other, because how bizarre everything might be, they had fun. "See you tomorrow," she smiles and he lingers in the door opening, turning around to face her again.
"You're not going to kiss me goodbye today?" he asks, giving her a pout. His hand on the back of his head. "Harvey," she whispers, biting her lip. "Yeah, I know," he counters giving her a smile instead, before he walks off, his hand running through his own hair. They discussed practically everything and despite the limited time they spend together, he's gotten to know her quite well. Yet he still has no clue what he's gotten himself into.
Harvey enters his parent's house again, the voice of his brother catching him off guard. "Who was that?" Marcus comments the second he enters the walking room. "What are you talking about?" Harvey counters. "The redhead from down the street," Marcus answers, "I didn't know you were seeing her."
Harvey lets out a sigh. "I'm not," he shakes his head. "Really and that's why I saw the two of you having dinner in the sun, chatting away and not an hour later you were moving stuff over to her place. You're not moving in with her are you?"
"I'm not seeing her," the law student answers louder this time. "I'm just helping her," Harvey answers, emphasizing the just. Marcus rolls his eyes as he watches his older brother walk off to his room, "sure Jan."
He shows up at her place the next day. Wearing a grey suit, he brings some ties and cuffs for her to choose from. Thanks what she asked and somehow if she asks he delivers. This time she opens the door in her bathrobe and he swallows first before he steps inside.
She tells him to wait in the living room so she can get changed. "Do you need help?" he smirks and she lets out a laugh shaking her head. "I'm more than capable of picking an outfit for myself," she answers.
"Ooh, so I have to let you choose my tie and I can't comment on what you're wearing?" he fires back, his eyes tracing her legs as she walks away from him. "Yep," she smirks looking over her shoulder, "that's exactly how it goes. Get used to it."
He's pacing around her living room, his eyes drifting off to the 'set' once more. Seeing the desk and the chair in front of the windows. His own books in the background. A laptop on the desk and he swallows, thinking how insane it is what he's about to do.
He's never been this nervous, but on the other hand it, without anything happening yet, has never felt so comfortable. There was something about this woman, he couldn't place what, but all he knew that if they had to this. She'd be the only person he'd be able to do this with.
He senses her presence, turning around on his heels. He feels his heart skip a beat and his mouth drops a little. She leans against the wall, feeling her heart rate starting to beat faster by the way he looks at her. "My eyes are up here," she comments and he shakes his head mumbling a sorry, but he was anything but. The redhead looked absolutely gorgeous.
She smiles, pushing herself on her feet. Placing one four inch heel for the other she walks towards him. Her hands resting on the black pencil skirt for a second, she looks at him. "Good?" she whispers and he swallows, "good."
His back is leaning against her couch when she steps even closer, reaching for the blue tie that's resting next to him. She brings her hands to his chest, her fingers sliding upwards to his collar she moves it up. Bringing her hands behind his head she lets the blue tie rest in his neck, folding the white collar of his dress shirt back, she lets her hands rest on his shoulders for a moment.
His eyes meet hers and he sees her smile, smile in a way he hasn't seen before and he isn't sure what's most attractive about the face in front of him now. The way she bites her lip as she seems deep in thought, that slight blush on her cheeks or the way her eyes sparkle.
His breathing becomes heavier and he swallows as her hands move over his collarbones, his hands moving towards her sides, holding her at her waist. She moves a little under his touch, but continues fixing his tie. "This should have been in the script," he whispers his thumbs moving over her sides and she smiles, leaning closer.
Her lips are near his ear and her breath is warm against his skin. "See," she whispers placing a small kiss on the corner of his jaw, "tension, an almost," she whispers moving back. "A maybe," she steps out of his embrace, before she walks out of his sight. His hands fall down to the edge of the couch. "God, woman," he whispers just above a breath.
He's sitting in desk chair, pretending to read something. He notices the small red light on the camera from the corner of his eye and it makes him insanely nervous and turned on at the same time. He slowly shakes his head, pushing away that thought cause it's not the camera or that little light, that one little thing that only reminds him the camera is there. It's the same colour though, it's her. Her hair, her smile, her body, but mostly her laugh and her voice. It's her and all she did up till this point was fix his tie and whispers something in his ear.
She walks towards the desk, two glasses of scotch in her hand and she sits down on the corner, before she hands him one. His fingers brushing past hers and his eyes lock with hers again. Seeing in them something he feels inside, an uncertainty, a hesitation.
"You sure about all this," he whispers so softly the camera can't catch it, before he takes a sip of his scotch. "It's weird," she whispers, still giving him a smile as she mirrors his move, "but yes I am. You?" she counters and he nods. "Same."
His one word answer making her let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, before she downs her glass. His brows furrow for a second and he wonders if she's really sure about this, but it's the way she smiles and kicks of those ridiculously high heels that show him she's sure.
She leans on her left arm, briefly looking at him before she looks over her shoulder avoiding his gaze. He takes this time to study her, the freckles in her neck, the way her auburn hair frames her face, and the white top she's wearing just giving him the tiniest hint of what's underneath there.
His gaze dropping when she moves her right leg over her left, her bare foot moving over his knee until it rest on the chair between his legs. His right hand moves to her leg, his fingers running over her calf. He uses her leg to pull his chair closer towards her, his lips connecting the freckles on her skin, until his mouth rests just below her knee. Her skirt preventing him from going any farther.
She turns to face him again, her own hand moving over her skirt she pulls it up just a little. His lips instantly higher on her skin, she giggles and leans forward. The index finger of her right hand pressing against his lips he looks back up.
His eyes first meeting her cleavage as her own chest is nearly leaning on her legs, his eyes meet hers at last. Her hand moves over his cheek, lifting his head until her lips brush past his, but she doesn't kiss him.
A laugh escaping her lips as she sees the look on his face when she rolls his chair away from her with her foot. His tie slipping through her fingers she just manages to hold on to the end. Donna hears him groan and the way his lips part she just knows he wants to say her name, but she shakes her head as a warning to him.
She gets back on her feet, her hands traveling up his tie as she takes two steps towards him. Her knees hitting the edge of the chair, making her stand between his legs. Her hands tilting his head backward as his hands move from her knees to her thighs, slightly pulling her skirt up, his hands move to her waist.
She leans forward once more, her lips brushing past his again as her fingertips move over his moles. This time she does kiss him and his lips part beneath hers in mere seconds. It's only the second time they kiss and besides how absurdly hot he finds the situation it feels familiar as well.
The second his hands manage to pull the blouse from her skirt she deepens their kiss. Her tongue sliding against his, she tastes like the scotch they just drank and when his thumbs press against her bare skin under her top she moans against his mouth.
Simultaneously their hands move to the matching pieces of clothing. She removes his tie, opening the top buttons of his dress shirt while his fingers work on the lowest buttons of her blouse. She pulls back then, letting her head rest against his. She smiles, because she knows he wants more, but she has every intention in making this last. In proving that point and she knows he understand when their eyes locks and he merely nods.
She brings her lips to his ear, just like before, but this time she whispers all the things she's about to do to him. Making him squirm on the spot, she smiles mumbling something about how he should work on his acting skills. He just bites his lip, he isn't acting at all.
He's trying his hardest to focus, but her lips are placing kisses down his neck, her hands slipping under his shirt and she draw lazy s-shapes on his abs as her lips lower. Kneeling down on the ground in between his legs.
She kisses the skin just above the edge of his trouser and her hands move from his knees over his thighs, his hands grip onto the armrest of the chair when she looks up at him with this devilish grin, her chin resting exactly there and just about manages to swallow in her name, because they're not supposed to say that out loud.
She's taking her time with the belt and he wishes the object wasn't even there, if there was a record for slowest way to open a zipper, he's pretty sure she just broke it. He wants to watch her, look at her and memorize ever second of this, because it's once and never again, but at the same time he can't.
She's torturing him in ways he didn't know were even possible, her hands, her lips and her tongue and all he wants if for her to free him from his boxers. His head falls back when she finally does, his toes curling and inaudible sounds leave his lips as his body trembles in the chair.
His breath falters in the end, his hand falling to her head, her hair curling around his fingers as he lifts her chin to make her look at him again. Their eyes lock with his and her smile resembles the one his lips show. And if he knew what falling in love felt like it would come close to, if not exactly, to what he's feeling now.
He can't think straight and everything they discussed and planned goes out of the window. He pulls her up on her feet, his hands moving over her face, lifting his body from the chair, he pulls her closer. Their lips meeting in a passionate kiss again, her hands clinging onto his dress shirt.
They stumble three steps backwards until she bumps into the table, the sudden movement making both of them pull back and laugh. "Sorry," he whispers his lips in her neck and she tells it's okay as she pulls her skirt a bit up, sitting down on the desk again.
Clothes are removed and her nails dig into his skin as his fingers move over her ribcage. His thumb trailing along the cup of her bra, she bites her own lip. He's torturing her like she did to him before, taking his time. Too long for her liking as she unclips it just before his fingers reach the middle of her back.
He pouts and she gives him a devilish grin in return. Holding her arm across her chest she shivers as his hands move the straps over her shoulders and down her arms, his lips placing kisses on her collarbone. The piece of clothing falling to the ground next to him, she pulls her chest against his before he can enjoy the view.
He mumbles something about how unfair that is, but she just giggles and kisses him in return. He can't help but smile, even when she kisses him she makes him smile.
His hands move up and down her back, over her hips to her thighs until they slip under her skirt. Pushing the fabric up little by little, his hands searching for the matching pink lace panties, his mouth leaves her neck when he notices they aren't even there. "God woman," he breathes.
She smiles giving him a wink and his knees turn weak. Her name is on the tip of his tongue and he wants nothing more than to say it or for her to say his name, but he knows they can't. Her right leg slowly trails over his and he gets the clue.
His fingers digging into her flesh, he pulls her closer. Their bodies meeting in the only way they hadn't yet and she lets out a soft scream of pleasure. He's not sure if it's her or him, or just them together setting the pace, but they move in ways he's never experienced before.
Her hands roaming his body like his are searching hers, their kisses hastily but passionate. "Ooh god," he mumbles his head leaning against hers, "I won't last much longer, Do-" her index finger against his lips before he can pronounce her name and she just moves with him.
Her nails dig into his shoulders even more and her lips are pressed against his skin to silence herself as a wave of pure pleasure rolls over her. He follows her soon after and he lays her down on top of the desk. His body hovering above hers, her arms still clinging on to the him as both of them try to catch their breath.
He leans back a bit, his hand removing her hair from her face and he smiles as he rolls off of her, his back landing on the wooden surface next to her. Both of them out of breath they remain silent, just staring at the ceiling. His hand covering hers and he's not sure what it means or why she does it, but she lets his fingers slip between hers.
Eventually she leans on her right elbow hovering above him, her left hand reaching for the camera she turns it off. She looks at him then, her left hand on his chest and she laughs. "I can't believe we actually did that," it are the words he mumbles, but she feels the same.
She presses a kiss against the corner of his mouth. "Thank you hotgod," she whispers before she gets up reaching for her clothes. He sits down, pulling his pants back up and he laughs as she throws his shirt towards him. "Same to you, theatregirl206."
They say goodbye an hour later. It's weird but unexpectedly not in an awkward way, but in a way where they both remind themselves of that rule they set before they even started. It was once and once only and they would never meet the other again.
They don't shake hands and they don't kiss, it's a hug. Something neither of them usually uses as a greeting or a way to say goodbye, but it seemed the only fitting gesture. His hand squeezes her shoulder and she buries her head in the crook of his neck.
"Good bye Donna," he whispers as he finally lets go and she swallows whispering a goodbye as he disappears from her vision. Only closing the door behind her when she hears the sound of the front door downstairs falling shut echo through the stairway.
He doesn't sleep that night, partially still in shock of what they'd done. Completely forgetting that fact it was recorded while he was with her. It was just him and her and he felt connected to this woman in a way he couldn't describe.
He wondered if it was just because of the tape thought, that he did that with her. But deep down he knew it wasn't, every time he closed his eyes he saw her face. Her auburn locks, her sparkling eyes and her smile. He was still able to hear her laugh.
She hugs her pillow, burying her face in the silk material. Biting her tongue she tries to stop her eyes from welling up, but there's no point. A tear rolls down her cheek and soon the room fills with the sound of soft sobs.
She isn't crying because of what she did, something she told herself she'd never do, but because of that rule she made him agree to. She knows it's for the best, it would be too awkward and weird otherwise.
That was her reasoning, she just hadn't expected the connection she felt to this man. Not just physically, but mentally.
How they were able to talk about things she normally doesn't even share with her best friends and most of all he made her laugh. He made her feel something she can't put it into words, but she wonders if that was the feeling people described you should be looking for.
No, her tears aren't because of what they did, they are because of what she might have lost.
She feels nervous this morning, she didn't expect this. For him to call her, telling her they need to meet. That he needs to see her, but he did and here she is. Her hands fidgeting with her dress she enters the diner of her choosing.
She sees him sitting in a booth halfway down and she lets out a sigh. Her hands running down her dress she slides down on the bench opposite of him. "So," Donna sighs as she looks at the man in front of her, raising her shoulders.
"What was so important that you just had to see me?" she asks, nervously moving around with her arms. She doesn't really know how to act right now. Where this conversation is going. This wasn't supposed to happen, this wasn't what they agreed upon.
His eyes search for hers, but she's looking down and he lets out a sigh. "I don't know how to say it, so I'm just gonna come out and say it, but …" he chokes on his words and pauses for a second as he reaches for something from the bag besides him.
Her eyes widening as she sees him place the camera on the table and she swallows. "Harvey," she mumbles her hand in the air but she doesn't touch the object. He turns it, making the screen face her before he hits the play button and she wants to protest before the sound can fill the space between them, but there's nothing.
No sound, no image, just black and white lines. "There's –"
"Nothing," he nods, looking down and she studies his face for a second. "You didn't replace the tape to mess with me now, did you? Or to convince me to do that again?" she mocks him and she sees him frown a little.
"Donna I swear, I didn't do anything," he answers truthfully and she can read on his face that he's telling the truth. She swallows then, realisation hitting her and suddenly she laughs. She laughs out loud and all he can do is look at her and smile at her reaction.
"I can't believe it didn't record," she whispers after a few minutes and he shakes his head. "It's your camera," he counters and she chuckles once more, raising her hand to the waitress she orders both of them a coffee.
He takes the last sip from his coffee . A smile covering his face as he remembers her words about replacing the tape. "Would you?" he asks then as he looks at her again. "Would I what?" she counters, bringing the cup to her lips. Her eyes still locked with his as she looks over the coffee cup.
"Do it again?"
She finishes her coffee first, letting out breath she didn't know she was holding as she thinks over her answer. Why they did it in the first place and that rule they set and how she felt about that, about him even, now.
"I mean we both really need the money it could make," he adds as she remains silent. She takes in his words, her eyes closing and she looks down. Maybe that rule and what it meant wasn't a problem for him after all.
He studies her face, almost certain he can detect some sense of disappointment and he wants to tell her it's okay if she doesn't want to when she looks back up again. "Sure," she whispers, pushing herself up from the bench. "I uhm.." she looks to her left and back to him, "I need to go, but uhm.."
"Donna?" he calls her name and she turns around, a big smile plastered on her face. "Tonight, you know where to find me," she replies loudly just before she walks outside. Her eyes closing and her stomach turning as she hurries herself back to her apartment.
He's still sitting there, frowning. Unsure what exactly happened just now and in some way he can't understand why she agreed so easily. Why she agreed at all, especially if that meant having that rule again.
That they would never meet again, cause as much as he wants to repeat what happened last night, the thought of never seeing her again is worse. It's a weird concept for him, but he'd rather have it the other way around.
She wipes her tears away, letting her head rest against the back of the door as she tries to make peace with the decision she made. They would do this again and after that she would never see him again.
A knock on her door makes her jump up then and she turns around slowly, the sound continuing and it mixes with her name being called from the other side of the object. Her hand falls around the doorknob then, turning it she swings the door open in one swift motion, he nearly falls inside.
"Harvey," she comments, crossing her arms in front of her chest, "why are you here?"
"You know why," he counters catching his breath as he steps inside. Closing the door behind him. "It's not tonight yet," she answers turning away from him. "That's not what I mean and you know it," he counters, his hand lingering in the air but he doesn't touch her.
"Then what?" she counters turning to face him again, but he's closer than she expected him to be, her chest bumping against his and her watery eyes lock with his. He doesn't answer her question and she doesn't ask more, their head gradually moving closer till their lips meet again.
Her hands moving around his neck, she pulls up his shirt and he wraps his hands around her waist, holding her close as they walk backwards. Both of them hitting a wall, she pulls back, her hands on his arms. "We're forgetting the camera," she breathes, looking away.
He shakes his head. "No, we're not," he lets his hand move over her side, his hand cupping her face. "Because you don't want that," he tells her, "and neither do I. Not if that .. not if that means I'll never get to see you again."
Nothing else was filmed that day or any day after that. And if there ever was, this time never with the intention to sell it. They didn't get the money they both needed that summer, but they got something else instead. Each other.
Even if it was just for the rest of the summer.
Harvey meeting Ms. Pearson in the mail room of the firm one and a half months later. She agreed to pay for his law school and helped him get into Harvard after all. He moved away and she stayed behind. The distance too difficult, both of them focussing too much on their own education instead they grew apart.
She graduated a few years later, but roles weren't easy to come by and as much as she wished it was different she ended up on the same place where she once worked that summer.
He graduated fifth in his class, with a promising career at Gordon Schmidt Van Dyke for him in the future. He was excited to start as junior associate at the firm he once spend his weekends in the mail room. When that same woman that helped him told him he needed trial experience first, making him work at the District Attorney's office he was pissed.
That feeling soon fading away when he remembered she once worked there. It was a silly thought after all these years, but maybe just maybe he would run into the redhead again.