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between the lines.
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one.
—
Giving her hair one final fluff in the mirror, she turns and reaches for the pink strawberry flavored lip gloss in the corner of her bathroom's top drawer.
It's been four hours since she quit and seven since she found out he did. All the flirtation, all the hours working late, all the early mornings… none of it mattered anymore. She had told him she had a rule. I don't get involved with men that I work with. He had protested, she had stood her ground. But now? Now all the rules were open to interpretation.
After applying one final sweep of gloss to her pout, she turned and exited the bathroom toward the kitchen, opening the door of the fridge and checking for the twelfth time that night that yes, indeed, she did have whipped cream in her fridge.
Now, it was just a matter of time.
She'd made her bed, cleaned her bathroom, picked up her living room, all because she knew. She knew the minute she heard he quit that all that fliration and tension would come to a head and he'd be at her door. So, Donna being Donna, she had prepared.
She just hoped she wasn't wrong. She hardly ever was, but what if? What if this was the one time she was?
Just as she was about to start pacing the floor with self-doubt, she heard it. The wrapping of knuckles on her front door. Smiling to herself knowingly, she quickly padded over to the fridge and grabbed the can of white fluff and headed to the front door opening it wide to a smirking Harvey Specter.
"I decided what kind of attorney I want to be."
two.
—
It's the early hours of the morning when he wakes.
They'd gone at it for hours, losing track of the amount of time they spent lost in each other ever since he made his way through her front door, simply to pin her to the opposite side in haste to get at her mouth. They'd made their mark on her entryway then finally got themselves together enough to make it to the bedroom, just to get lost in each other all over again.
It had been a frenzy of limbs and lips and tongues and tastes, barely able to conceal their ardor for one another to a shocking level, especially for a first time. It was like no other first time he'd ever had. There was this scary level of connection there that had never been present for him before. They knew each other, of course, because they had worked together nearly a year and he'd spent more time with her then anyone else over that time but this somehow felt… more.
Opening his eyes, he turned to survey the room. Clothes in a heap on the floor, empty whipped cream can laying abandoned next to his pants, pillows in the corner. It was wrecked.
Well, so was he.
His brain was going a mile a minute trying to process everything and as much as he wanted to focus on his thoughts and make some sort of linear thought out of the wild mess of scary emotions going through him that he's never felt before, all he could focus on was the smell of her hair and the warmth of her body laying next to him and the calmness of her sleep-addled breathing.
He found himself wanting to lay here forever; a concept that was foriegn to him. It was just supposed to be one night of unleashing sexual tension and finally getting what he was told he couldn't have, and yet now all he can think of is what if? What if this was something else entirely? What if this was more? Was he ready for more? Was she? And most importantly, why did he care?
Glancing over to her, he admires the glowing red of her hair and the slope of her naked back that was visible to him due to the sheets having slid down low on her hips during the night. He could so easily feel the desire to turn toward her, wrap her in his arms, press his lips to her shoulder and rouse her to conciousness with soft kisses and slow morning sex but this wasn't a relationship. This was one night of passion. That's all.
He had to get out.
He wanted to wake her up but he knew if he did she'd look at him in that unnerving way she does, like she's peering into the depths of his soul, and then he'd be right back on her with a repeat performance of last night.
So, in the slowest and gentlest way possible, he slips out from underneath the sheets and grabs his clothes, heading into her bathroom to get dressed. After using the restroom and gathering his wits, he redresses and makes his way out of the bathroom back through her bedroom.
Taking one last look at her laying in bed, he fights everything in him to say something, suddenly at a loss for words of what he would even say if he could and just when he's about to turn and leave without a word he hears her sleep-ladden voice reach out to him.
"Hey," she whispers.
"Hey," he responds just as quietly and voice just as husky.
She blinks her eyes slowly, sleep leaving her brain and realizes that he was about to leave without a word and that's when she just stares. They gaze at each other and she fights the hurt she feels at him attempting to leave without even a simple acknowledgement. The more she stares though, the more she realizes that maybe he feels the same as she does. Maybe he thinks this was more, or at least could be more.
The seconds tick by and at long last she sees it. He's not leaving because he's an asshole (that much she knew), he's leaving because he's confused and scared. I am too, Harvey, she thinks.
Breaking the stare, she closes her eyes and settles into her pillow with a smile, and just the sight of her gentle expression puts him at ease and he knows that they're okay (or they will be), though he's not entirely sure why that matters given they're no longer interconnected as they were.
He releases a breath he didn't know he was holding and turns to exit her bedroom and he supposes her life, and the last thing he hears in her whispered tone before he crosses the threshold is, "I could love you if you'd let me, you know."
I know, Donna, he thinks as he leaves out her front door the way he came.
He may not know what to make of this situation with Donna, but he definitely knows where he's headed. He's going home to shower and then he's meeting Jessica. Because, regardless of how he could feel about a certain redhead, he does know one thing for certain.
He can't lose her.
three.
—
It's late at night and he's just gotten home from the firm that he'll call home once again.
He knew the minute he left Donna's place that this is where he was headed. He surprised even himself, though, when he told Jessica he wasn't coming here without her. He knew he couldn't lose her and he didn't even think about the words leaving his mouth when he vehemently laid down the law to his new boss. He wasn't thinking, he was simply feeling.
Pouring himself a scotch and reaching for his phone, he settles on the couch and takes a sip of his drink. He knows what he has to do, he just hopes he isn't wrong. He hopes his gut and his instincts were right on this one and that she'll agree to come with him.
Scrolling through his recent calls, he finds her number and before he loses his nerve, he presses her name and watches the black screen come up and hears the ringing. It rings four times before it eventually goes to voicemail.
He's not the least bit surprised.
As much as he was hoping she'd pick up so he could talk to her, convince her, maybe it's better this way. Maybe it's better if he's forced to do this face to face, forced to explain what made him walk out, forced to explain why he can't do this without her.
Her outgoing message plays and he smiles at the sound of her voice slightly before schooling his features and clearing his throat, ready to leave a message that he hopes sways her.
"Hey Donna," he says in a soft tone. "I know you probably didn't expect to hear from me again, but I've been thinking about things ever since I left your place and I need to talk to you. Can you please meet me at the diner on the corner of 54th and Lex tomorrow at 10:00? I just... I really need to see you. I'll be there waiting."
Hanging up the phone, he places it beside him on the table, swirling his scotch in his glass and taking a sip of the amber liquid.
It's an hour later and he's finished his drink and is just getting ready for bed, when he hears the subtle vibrating tone of his phone on the bathroom counter. Flipping the screen over he reads the text on the screen and can't help but smile inwardly.
"I'll see you at 10. - D"
four.
—
She was right. He did need her.
They'd talked, they'd laughed and they'd agreed… they would put it out of their mind and they would never mention it again. Easier said than done, he thought. Even now, sitting across from her as she drank her coffee, he couldn't fight the thoughts in his head. He still remembered what she tasted like, what she smelled like, what her face looked like when she was brought to that unbelievable peak.
Fuck.
Shaking it off, they agreed on a new ritual. A can opener ritual of all things. Maybe that would be enough as long as they had something to tie them together in a special way.
So they'd stayed at the diner and they'd eaten breakfast and they'd laughed like friends do and he realized the more he sat there with her that if he couldn't have her in the way his heart wanted that at least he could have her in the way his brain wanted, he could have her with him as he accomplished his goals. Not his dreams though, just his goals, his dreams would come later, he supposed. But for now, for now this was enough.
Nearly an hour later, he'd paid the bill and she had excused herself to the restroom before meeting him at the front door of the diner ready to part ways until Monday.
Holding the door open for her they made their way out of the restaurant to the sidewalk. Turning to face her, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet a little, nerves getting the best of him, lack of words clogging his throat. She just smiled and shot him a slight nod of the head then turned to make her way up the street, but his voice stopped her.
"So, um, I'll see you Monday, I guess?" He asked with a smirk.
Donna had merely smiled in return, rolling her eyes, saying, "It looks like you will, boss ."
And with that she was gone, heading up the street to hail a cab back home.
Monday couldn't come soon enough.
five.
—
"What? Did you not think I wouldn't show up?" She says, walking out of her building.
Of course he was here to pick her up. She really should have guessed.
He's leaning back against the black sedan towncar clearly pleased with himself and the fact that he's surprised her. She's not entirely sure this is a great look for them, riding with her boss to work on both their first days at a new job but he's here and she can't possibly turn him down, not when he has that insufferable smirk on his face and looks so happy.
"I just figured I'd give you a ride. Save you the cab fare," He says smugly.
"Harvey," she utters with a slight shake of her head, getting closer to him, nearly toe to toe.
"Donna, it's a big day," he responds. "Just get in the damn car," he says, opening the door for her and stepping to the side to allow space for her to slide in.
Rolling her eyes, she can't help but follow his lead. As she's getting settled, he shuts her door and rounds the car, getting in on the other side opposite her.
She can't help but acknowledge that he's right, this is a big day.
For both of them.
+ one.
—
They're laughing in the hallway at the tiny bald-headed man that can't possibly fathom that Harvey is back and has a secretary, no less, when they collide forces with a tall, beautiful, powerful woman of stature and means.
Jessica, Donna thinks. Fuck.
She knew she'd meet her eventually, she'd have to, but she had thought she would have had more time to prepare herself. This is the Jessica Pearson. She's heard so much about her from Harvey over the course of their time together and she can't help but wonder whether any of the sentiments he's expressed to her have been reciprocated to the powerful force of a woman in front of her.
"Harvey," Jessica says smirking.
"Well, hello there," Harvey says.
"Welcome back," she retorts, "Already torturing Louis, I see?"
"Old habits die hard," Harvey responds with a smirk.
Donna, having been standing silently next to Harvey, finally notices Jessica's attention shift to her. Her eyes make contact with hers and Donna schools her features and presents a confident expression. The woman can rattle you this she can tell, but Donna refuses to be rattled by anyone, least of all her boss' boss. The stare continues for a moment, and out of the corner of her eye Donna can see Harvey simultaneously holding his breath and also widening his eyes in devoted interest of how this conversation is going to go.
"And you must be Donna?" Jessica asks, extending her hand.
Grasping her hand in a shake, Donna responds confidently with a simple nod, saying, "I am, yes. Nice to meet you, Jessica."
Giving Donna one more once over, Jessica smirks in a knowing way, then shifts her attention back to Harvey and raises one eyebrow in a silent conversation. Harvey just smirks confidently in response and Donna can't help but wish she knew more about their history because ordinarily she'd be able to read between the lines, especially with Harvey, but with this and them, she finds herself at a loss.
A few beats later and Jessica sends them both a nod and then makes her way around them to the bank of elevators leaving them in the hallway as if she hadn't just shook the very foundation they were standing on.
Releasing a breath she didn't know she was holding in, Donna exhales audibly and Harvey just watches her as the world lifts off her shoulders and he can't help the quiet laugh that bubbles out of his mouth.
All he gets from Donna in response is an evil glare as she picks up her feet and heads in the direction of what she presumes is their new workspace with Harvey trailing behind her and then eventually meeting her at her side.
Donna vows then and there to never, ever, be visibly shaken by Jessica Pearson again.
And it's a vow she upholds.
+ two.
—
It's been an eventful day of getting settled, marking their territory, learning the lay of the land and to be honest, she's tired. She hadn't slept well the night before, too nervous about the prospect of working with him again and working with him here, after everything that had transpired between them.
To his credit, Harvey had been in perfect co-worker mode. He seemed, on his part, to be upholding his end of the agreement to never put it out of their minds and never mention it again and that fact made Donna even more internally shaken. The fact that he hadn't even subtly mentioned it once made her mind go a mile a minute wondering how he could possibly be so calm about everything and even though she was thrilled he was respecting her boundaries, she was finding it extremely difficult to put it out of her mind.
They had spent the day organizing his office and preparing their plan of attack for the week of getting settled and they'd been at it all day and it was nearly 8:00 in the evening before Harvey and Donna both realized how late it was.
"Donna, go home. I think we're at a stopping point."
"Okay, Harvey, thanks," she said, finishing up organizing some files on his desk he'd need in the morning for the first case he'd been given today.
She was about to make her way out of the office and grab her things from her cubicle when she felt his eyes on her. Taking a deep internal breath she turned towards him, slightly surprised to find his gaze directed at her face, gaze never faltering even upon being noticed by her.
Eyes meeting in the silence, they simply stared at each other, longing looks lingering and conveying so much meaning that it was almost tangible, the emotions transpiring between them.
The thing about putting it out of your mind , she thought, is that that doesn't dispose of the lingering tension . Staring back into his eyes she couldn't help but feel the palpable tension between them.
She could tell, in the silence, that they were imaging the same thing. Her bed, their frenzied union, their collective moans, the non-stop need.
Clearing her throat and breaking eye contact, she turned and made her way out of his office to her cubicle and gathered her belongings, shooting one last glance at him, before uttering a "Goodnight, Harvey," then turning on her heel and heading for the elevator.
Fuck. This was going to be harder than she thought.
—
Eventually, many moons later, that infamous night becomes known as 'The Other Time' and as it turns out they never really ever could put it out of their minds. It was always there, nagging in the background, tying them to one another in a way that no one would ever be able to sever, no matter how hard anyone else tried.
And, after several years, that unforgettable night known as 'The Other Time' simply becomes just one of the many times because he eventually comes to his senses and realizes that not only does he need her, not only do all his goals (and dreams) involve her in one way or another, but that he wants her, for the rest of his life, as his wife, as his partner, as his other half.
She was right, in the end. He does need her. But, it turns out, he wants her too.
—
- End -
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