191. {c} [suits] (harvey/donna) six degrees of separation [3/prologue+6+epilogue]
six degrees of separation ; r ; 1,798 words ;
third is when your world splits down the middle
they aren't okay but they'll both pretend anyway
a/n: this is for abvj who donated to fandomaid
Friday night for the last 3 months has usually been spent with Zoe, trying to figure out whose place to stay at depending on Olivia's location, but there's something about this night in particular that makes Harvey want to get out of it. Maybe part of him understands that he couldn't possibly hold onto any dignity or self-respect if he were to be with Zoe when all he's thinking about is Donna. Or maybe he just doesn't have it in him to pretend, not tonight - not now and not when the ghost of Donna's touch is still beneath his fingertips.
Harvey is a lot of things - arrogant, charming, tough, fair, arrogant and arrogant (with a little bit of handsome intact) not to mention, arrogant - but less than noble is not one of those things.
He has rules that have made his life rather simple (yet it's still complicated to the point that he remembers why he doesn't bother with people or places or things). Don't sleep with married women. Don't make promises he can't keep. Don't get too attached because people will use that to their advantage. And, last but certainly not least, don't commit to something that he can't stay committed to.
So, instead of pressing Zoe with his gaze to invite him in to stay the night, instead of letting the words hang in the air between them like usual, he merely leans forward and presses his lips to the corner of her mouth. He can't even bring himself to kiss her like she's worth time or effort, like she's the most beautiful woman he's ever laid eyes on, like she's the woman he wants to spend his time with. It isn't that she's not worth time or effort, that she isn't made of beauty, or that she isn't everything that is good and right and perfect in the world - that isn't it at all.
She just isn't Donna, and he's probably been in love with Donna forever.
"I just don't understand, Donna, he's your boss."
"He's my friend."
"Bosses are not friends. They are cordial and nice on occasion but they certainly don't know you that well."
"It's my job."
"It's not your job to take care of him like you would take care of a husband."
"That isn't fair, Ted. He's been my boss, my friend, for fourteen years. How many people have you worked closely with for that long without walking away knowing each other? Without considering them a friend?"
"Listen, Donna, a man knows two things. First, the batting lineup for the Yankees. And, second, when another man is in love with his girlfriend."
"He is not in love with me!"
"He is, but that isn't the problem. The problem is that I can't help thinking that you're in love with him too."
"I'm not, Ted. I'm really not. He's a major pain in my ass. He can't even make a phone call without someone else dialing the number for him. He's like a brother or a cousin or a child. Mostly like a child, and I am only on mommy duty during business hours."
"When are you not on business hours?"
"I just said that he was a pain in my ass."
"I'm going to be the mayor of this city one day, maybe even more of a public figure than that, and I still believe that a politician can be honest. In order for me to live an honest life, I need you to be honest. And I'm not sure you can."
"Oh my god, you cannot be serious. That's bullshit."
"Maybe, but I don't know right now if this is going to work. I just need some time to think. I'm gonna go."
The incessant pounding on his front door comes only as a minor surprise. It can be any number of people but he has a vague idea of who it could be. He forgets to grab a shirt as he gets out of bed, figures this won't take long anyway. If it's Jessica, she'll just give him a quick bitching and excuse herself. If it's Mike, Harvey will tell him to get out. And if it's Zoe, well, she'll just come in, he guesses.
Odds are that Zoe just decided that they left some things unfinished, things that were left unsaid. There are things that probably should have been said, that he didn't bring attention to and neither did she. When he left her house, he felt a sense of relief like maybe he dodged a bullet.
But when he pulls the door open, he's met with Donna's eyes looking back at him and he's suddenly aware that he only has a pair of sweatpants on and nothing else. Her eyes bore holes into him, absently trace over his chest like she's seeing him the first time (and maybe she is, because she's never seen him like this before, with his hair sticking up and disheveled from the static of the pillows). He doesn't say anything, just swallows as his lips part in the unspoken question.
Everything between them is better left unsaid and they always have been.
Her eyes narrow at him accusingly, "I was happy. I was happy and then you show up, staring at me like that, like you're just undressing me with your eyes, and then you open your big mouth because you're an arrogant son of a bitch and you want everyone to know that you know more than them."
He opens his mouth to say something but instead lets his jaw hang open, his eyebrows knitting together. He lightly shakes his head, his hand tightening around the doorknob as he swallows. He watches her jaw clench, the lines of her features something that he can't look away from.
"Donna," he mutters, held tilting as his gaze hardens, "I didn't-"
"You did! You always do. Why the fuck do you think that you never meet anyone that I date anymore?" She interjects, her hands fly into his bare chest and leave a sting against his skin. He's sure that it's going to leave a mark, that he's never been slapped so hard in his life and he's been slapped a fair amount. A smug grin tugs at the corners of his mouth and he fights it - fights it because she's pissed and he can see it in her eyes, because he doesn't mean to be the way that he is, not this time. "I've never even mentioned his name, not one time in the last seven months, because this is the shit you pull. You do this like I'm your territory and I'm not yours, Harvey. Zoe is yours. I am not yours."
He grabs her wrist to keep her from hitting him, the slap hard and soft at the same time as she mars his skin, and he tugs her to him. Her elbows dig into his ribcage, her joints rolling against his top ribs just below his peck muscles, and he thinks that this is it, this is the moment that he could either say something with some substanance or he could just let her get it out of her system. He doesn't know, doesn't know what to do or say and he's never really been in this position before. All he knows is that they can't hover in the hallway, they can't do this where his neighbors can gauge their every move.
His fingers slide up her palm and slips between her fingers without much protest from her. Her lips form a thin line, her mouth both strange and familiar at the same time, and he can't help but look at the shape of them. Her body pressed against him makes his mouth part, lips dry as the warmth from her lips ghosts over them.
"Do you want to come in?" He asks huskily.
She narrows her gaze at him, her body betraying her words as her hips arch into his, "no, I just came here to yell at you and now I'm going home."
"Okay," Harvey agrees, "I'll see you later then."
"I'm still mad at you," she reminds him, the webs of her fingers pressing into his, "I never want to see you again."
"Okay, I'll find you a replacement on Monday," he agrees, words laced with that somewhat familiar tease, "are you sure you don't want to come in?"
"No," she admits, word heavy in her throat, "I want to be happy, Harvey. That's what I want."
"I," he pauses, swallows, "I want you. I haven't been able to think about anything else but you all night."
"I know," she breathes, "but you can't."
"But you're still standing here," he reminds her, "I can feel your breath against my lips and your skin beneath my fingertips, so if you're going to go then you have to go now."
"I'm not done yelling at you."
He sighs, a grin slowly smiling over his lips, "okay, then come in. Yell at me some more."
He takes a step back, pulling on her to follow his lead, the door slamming shut as she kicks the door closed behind her. His fingers stay hot between hers, his thumb pressing into her knuckle like she's trying to break loose when she's really made no effort to. The back of her hands press against his chest and he feels like the shape of them are being burned into his skin.
"Harvey," she sighs, her breath lost in the space between them as he steps back into something, the sound of the table scratching across his floor; her body jolts into his, torso and hips and thighs and knees and the toe of her shoe against his toes as her lips slightly part. Her words get lost in the moment, the smell of her surrounding him and her lips dangerously close to his. "I was happy and then you spend one night in the room with him and it all goes to shit."
"I was happy," he counters, "I was happy, too, and then I see you and I can't stop seeing you and I was happy. I was happy for a long time, happy to just be watching you from afar, happy to just have you in the way that I had you, but I was jealous. I was jealous because I'm probably in love with you."
"Bullshit," she snaps, "you're not in love with me."
His fingers glide against hers as he releases his hold, hands smoothing over her skin until they settle on her hips; he opens his mouth to retort, but his words are swallowed by her mouth descending on his, open and poised and ready like she's been preparing for it for years.
third is when your world splits down the middle
they aren't okay but they'll both pretend anyway
a/n: this is for abvj who donated to fandomaid
Friday night for the last 3 months has usually been spent with Zoe, trying to figure out whose place to stay at depending on Olivia's location, but there's something about this night in particular that makes Harvey want to get out of it. Maybe part of him understands that he couldn't possibly hold onto any dignity or self-respect if he were to be with Zoe when all he's thinking about is Donna. Or maybe he just doesn't have it in him to pretend, not tonight - not now and not when the ghost of Donna's touch is still beneath his fingertips.
Harvey is a lot of things - arrogant, charming, tough, fair, arrogant and arrogant (with a little bit of handsome intact) not to mention, arrogant - but less than noble is not one of those things.
He has rules that have made his life rather simple (yet it's still complicated to the point that he remembers why he doesn't bother with people or places or things). Don't sleep with married women. Don't make promises he can't keep. Don't get too attached because people will use that to their advantage. And, last but certainly not least, don't commit to something that he can't stay committed to.
So, instead of pressing Zoe with his gaze to invite him in to stay the night, instead of letting the words hang in the air between them like usual, he merely leans forward and presses his lips to the corner of her mouth. He can't even bring himself to kiss her like she's worth time or effort, like she's the most beautiful woman he's ever laid eyes on, like she's the woman he wants to spend his time with. It isn't that she's not worth time or effort, that she isn't made of beauty, or that she isn't everything that is good and right and perfect in the world - that isn't it at all.
She just isn't Donna, and he's probably been in love with Donna forever.
"I just don't understand, Donna, he's your boss."
"He's my friend."
"Bosses are not friends. They are cordial and nice on occasion but they certainly don't know you that well."
"It's my job."
"It's not your job to take care of him like you would take care of a husband."
"That isn't fair, Ted. He's been my boss, my friend, for fourteen years. How many people have you worked closely with for that long without walking away knowing each other? Without considering them a friend?"
"Listen, Donna, a man knows two things. First, the batting lineup for the Yankees. And, second, when another man is in love with his girlfriend."
"He is not in love with me!"
"He is, but that isn't the problem. The problem is that I can't help thinking that you're in love with him too."
"I'm not, Ted. I'm really not. He's a major pain in my ass. He can't even make a phone call without someone else dialing the number for him. He's like a brother or a cousin or a child. Mostly like a child, and I am only on mommy duty during business hours."
"When are you not on business hours?"
"I just said that he was a pain in my ass."
"I'm going to be the mayor of this city one day, maybe even more of a public figure than that, and I still believe that a politician can be honest. In order for me to live an honest life, I need you to be honest. And I'm not sure you can."
"Oh my god, you cannot be serious. That's bullshit."
"Maybe, but I don't know right now if this is going to work. I just need some time to think. I'm gonna go."
The incessant pounding on his front door comes only as a minor surprise. It can be any number of people but he has a vague idea of who it could be. He forgets to grab a shirt as he gets out of bed, figures this won't take long anyway. If it's Jessica, she'll just give him a quick bitching and excuse herself. If it's Mike, Harvey will tell him to get out. And if it's Zoe, well, she'll just come in, he guesses.
Odds are that Zoe just decided that they left some things unfinished, things that were left unsaid. There are things that probably should have been said, that he didn't bring attention to and neither did she. When he left her house, he felt a sense of relief like maybe he dodged a bullet.
But when he pulls the door open, he's met with Donna's eyes looking back at him and he's suddenly aware that he only has a pair of sweatpants on and nothing else. Her eyes bore holes into him, absently trace over his chest like she's seeing him the first time (and maybe she is, because she's never seen him like this before, with his hair sticking up and disheveled from the static of the pillows). He doesn't say anything, just swallows as his lips part in the unspoken question.
Everything between them is better left unsaid and they always have been.
Her eyes narrow at him accusingly, "I was happy. I was happy and then you show up, staring at me like that, like you're just undressing me with your eyes, and then you open your big mouth because you're an arrogant son of a bitch and you want everyone to know that you know more than them."
He opens his mouth to say something but instead lets his jaw hang open, his eyebrows knitting together. He lightly shakes his head, his hand tightening around the doorknob as he swallows. He watches her jaw clench, the lines of her features something that he can't look away from.
"Donna," he mutters, held tilting as his gaze hardens, "I didn't-"
"You did! You always do. Why the fuck do you think that you never meet anyone that I date anymore?" She interjects, her hands fly into his bare chest and leave a sting against his skin. He's sure that it's going to leave a mark, that he's never been slapped so hard in his life and he's been slapped a fair amount. A smug grin tugs at the corners of his mouth and he fights it - fights it because she's pissed and he can see it in her eyes, because he doesn't mean to be the way that he is, not this time. "I've never even mentioned his name, not one time in the last seven months, because this is the shit you pull. You do this like I'm your territory and I'm not yours, Harvey. Zoe is yours. I am not yours."
He grabs her wrist to keep her from hitting him, the slap hard and soft at the same time as she mars his skin, and he tugs her to him. Her elbows dig into his ribcage, her joints rolling against his top ribs just below his peck muscles, and he thinks that this is it, this is the moment that he could either say something with some substanance or he could just let her get it out of her system. He doesn't know, doesn't know what to do or say and he's never really been in this position before. All he knows is that they can't hover in the hallway, they can't do this where his neighbors can gauge their every move.
His fingers slide up her palm and slips between her fingers without much protest from her. Her lips form a thin line, her mouth both strange and familiar at the same time, and he can't help but look at the shape of them. Her body pressed against him makes his mouth part, lips dry as the warmth from her lips ghosts over them.
"Do you want to come in?" He asks huskily.
She narrows her gaze at him, her body betraying her words as her hips arch into his, "no, I just came here to yell at you and now I'm going home."
"Okay," Harvey agrees, "I'll see you later then."
"I'm still mad at you," she reminds him, the webs of her fingers pressing into his, "I never want to see you again."
"Okay, I'll find you a replacement on Monday," he agrees, words laced with that somewhat familiar tease, "are you sure you don't want to come in?"
"No," she admits, word heavy in her throat, "I want to be happy, Harvey. That's what I want."
"I," he pauses, swallows, "I want you. I haven't been able to think about anything else but you all night."
"I know," she breathes, "but you can't."
"But you're still standing here," he reminds her, "I can feel your breath against my lips and your skin beneath my fingertips, so if you're going to go then you have to go now."
"I'm not done yelling at you."
He sighs, a grin slowly smiling over his lips, "okay, then come in. Yell at me some more."
He takes a step back, pulling on her to follow his lead, the door slamming shut as she kicks the door closed behind her. His fingers stay hot between hers, his thumb pressing into her knuckle like she's trying to break loose when she's really made no effort to. The back of her hands press against his chest and he feels like the shape of them are being burned into his skin.
"Harvey," she sighs, her breath lost in the space between them as he steps back into something, the sound of the table scratching across his floor; her body jolts into his, torso and hips and thighs and knees and the toe of her shoe against his toes as her lips slightly part. Her words get lost in the moment, the smell of her surrounding him and her lips dangerously close to his. "I was happy and then you spend one night in the room with him and it all goes to shit."
"I was happy," he counters, "I was happy, too, and then I see you and I can't stop seeing you and I was happy. I was happy for a long time, happy to just be watching you from afar, happy to just have you in the way that I had you, but I was jealous. I was jealous because I'm probably in love with you."
"Bullshit," she snaps, "you're not in love with me."
His fingers glide against hers as he releases his hold, hands smoothing over her skin until they settle on her hips; he opens his mouth to retort, but his words are swallowed by her mouth descending on his, open and poised and ready like she's been preparing for it for years.