Chapter Text
Oh, now you're looking at me, and I'm looking at you like a fool
But, you don't know what it feels like to fall in love with you
No, you don't know what it's like when you can't go back
- Dean Lewis, Lose My Mind
Oh, fuck, repeats in her her head like one of his records spinning around and around on the turn table as she walks out of her own office and leaves him standing there with a look on his face that she knows all too well. She moved on autopilot and after twelve years at Pearson Specter Litt, her feet carry her to the washrooms and as she hears the door behind her close, she briefly wishes they had locks on the main door--not ready for the conversation (or, rather, the confrontation) that she feels coming like every other conversation they've had when it comes to them and the consequences of their goddamn feelings for one another. As soon as she was sure he wasn't right behind her, it was like slow motion, or time stopping, and she felt her stomach drop as she walked through what just happened.
Her cheeks puff out as she breathed a heavy sigh and she moved to the counter and stared at herself in the mirror. She’s full of nervous energy and she can easily point it out in herself. She bites the inside of her cheek and practices a breathing technique from pilates to get her nervous energy under control. To an outsider, she’d look mostly composed—she’s not crying or anything—she just can’t really stand still. But she forces herself to do so thanks to knowing him and she can’t fall apart here because that will only make it worse.
The seconds pass by and she continues to wonder what the hell to do next when she hears it, or, him.
The thing about the washrooms of Pearson Specter Litt is they have tile in the alcove. It makes custodial work easier when there’s a cleanup job. Or, that’s what one of the custodial staff members had told her a long time ago. The familiar footsteps fall right at the door. She closes her eyes as she places her palms on the counter and leans most of her weight onto them. She doesn’t want to do this now.
She holds her breath, getting ready for his emotional upheaval. But when ten seconds go by and he still hasn’t entered, she listens carefully and a minute later his footsteps recede. She sighs, somewhat relieved and somewhat terrified they aren’t going to confront this right now.
He slips away, not really forgetting why he was there in the first place but he can’t really focus on the problem with Jessica Pearson because Donna Paulsen kissed him and he has no idea what to do now.
--
She let herself in with the key he had given her a few days ago. The odds that he was actually home at this time of night were slim to none but she knew he'd be here within the hour because he typically puts in 12-15 hour days and its slowly approaching hour 15 and he hadn't returned her call she had placed about four hours ago. But when she heard the fireplace blower on, she thinks maybe he was home after all. Locking the door behind her, she turns and puts a smile on her face.
Paula Agard was surprised at the woman sitting on Harvey’s couch, sipping her way through a tumbler of scotch as if she were meant to be here. Paula moved slowly to the island counter as the woman looked up and then moved her gaze back to the fireplace, taking a slow sip of the amber liquid.
“You’re…” Paula drops off as she drops her bag onto one of the island counter barstools.
“Jessica Pearson,” Jessica nodded. “I didn’t know Harvey would have a guest.”
Paula looked at Jessica, knowing full well the woman knows of her and she wonders who she’s talked to. She thinks not Harvey because the older woman is looking her up and down with an assessment that’s familiar to the one she had months ago when Donna Paulsen came to her place to look for Harvey.
“I’m Paula,” Paula moved to sit on a barstool.
“Agard, yes,” Jessica interrupted. “Harvey’s former therapist and girlfriend of two months.”
The therapist role takes over for a moment as she assesses the women in Harvey Specter’s life. They are strong, independent, and love him quite fiercely. With Jessica Pearson, it's more of a lioness protecting her cub than a lover but it's love nonetheless. With Donna Paulsen, well, it was different. She knew long before she and Harvey started dating that Donna Paulsen had Harvey Specter's heart but didn't realise the extent was so... large and encompassed more than just the two in question. Paula Agard realised Donna Paulsen wasn’t any one label and that was terrifying to come to realise in front of another woman that is possibly better analyzing people than her. They were family. The family he chose because his own was flaky and broken. The one he would protect by any means necessary. And she wondered what role she played in this life. In his life.
Almost as if Jessica Pearson is indeed analysing her as Paula draws her own conclusions, the woman finally smiles and stands and Paula thinks she’s a goddamn amazon warrior--all strength and beauty and she was so goddamn tall.
As far as everyone knows, Jessica Pearson is not sentimental. She certainly doesn’t flip open her purse as she vacates the couch in favour of the counter and have with her a picture that’s over a decade old in one of those wallet-sized picture proctor flip books. And she certainly doesn’t place it on the island counter and ask the woman in front of her to take a look at what everyone else sees.
Paula looks at Jessica for a moment, reading between the lines and slowly turns her gaze to the picture in front of her.
Its at one of those black and white tie-only charity auctions back when Pearson Hardman was a household name from the takeover in the night and Harvey had just come on board again. The theme was Bond-oriented and Harvey had shown up in an Aston Martin DB6 and a tux and Jessica remembers Donna laughing out loud at his entrance as the rest of them had shown up in a Pearson Hardman fleet car just ahead of him. As with all celebrity-hosted charity auctions, pictures were taken at the red carpet, during the party, and there was even a photo booth.
Donna was stunning in a white, capped shoulder pleated chiffon floor length dress. A matching belt cinched her waist and gave the dress some definition as well as highlighted her figure. Her hair was loosely curled and her bangs were swept to the side as she was living in the stage where she was growing them out so they were too long to be regular bangs and too short to curl behind her ears or swept into an up-do.
Harvey looked rather handsome in his tuxedo and made even more regal with Donna on his arm. The picture in question was innocent enough—a group shot of Jessica, Louis, Donna, and Harvey. What spoke volumes was the way the latter two were looking at one another as the four of them looped arms around each others’ waists.
They were completely ignoring the photographer and she thinks this was one of the multiple shots she usually sees of celebrity red carpets online nowadays and Paula thinks Jessica had purposely selected this one out of the proofs to carry around with her. Donna’s smile was just for him as she was looking at him rather than the photographer. Louis had his arm around her but there was a clear gap and she can infer what had happened as Harvey’s the jealous type and Louis just wants to be friends. Harvey only had eyes for Donna. His serious expression was wide and trusting and encapsulated the two of them in their own little world. Perhaps it wasn’t noticeable but she used to be his therapist and she had heard enough stories of Jessica Pearson and Donna Paulsen to know these two women have a longer history with Harvey Specter than she ever would.
"As soon as they closed their two clients, they left for beer and nachos at a dive bar because every appetizer served had tomatoes and Donna doesn't like tomatoes," Jessica interrupted Paula's thoughts.
Paula opens her mouth to ask a question. Ask a thousand questions. But she closes it again and bites her lip.
“We don’t have anything against you,” Jessica says quietly. “You just, you don’t have our history.”
Jessica doesn’t wait for that to sink in. She needs to get back to her hotel and figure out how the hell she’s really going to spin losing her bar license. Because as much as she tells Harvey its time to let go, it still takes time.
As she moves to hail a cab, her phone lights up with a familiar name and she wonders what the hell he's done now.
--
To say Harvey wasn’t expecting Paula would be a half-truth. She had brought a box of Pop-Tarts over and she was on her last one, he thinks. So, of course she’d stay to finish the box up.
When he saw her sitting there with the overhead island lights as the only bank of lights on, he frowned and stepped closer.
She was handling something but he knew who had been in the house and he had somehow known exactly what she was keeping to herself. Goddamn, Jessica, he thinks as a curse.
He felt the pit in his stomach open but he couldn’t not tell her. He can’t keep things like this. She knows this, he thinks to himself. And he wondered why he flashed to Donna knowing rather than the woman in front of him and he felt their invisible chasm growing larger the longer he stayed quiet.
"You never answered my phone call," Paula starts as an opener.
Harvey frowned and looked at her confused. He had other shit to deal with the past day of Andy coming after him and all those he cared about. He didn't have time for phone calls. But that's not what came out. Instead, he looked at her and clenched his jaw.
“Donna and I kissed,” Harvey said quietly, honestly.
He looked down at his shoes and then met her eyes. There was an apology there because she knows his history from their sessions and she swore she’d never use that knowledge to hurt him but it stung nonetheless.
“It was once, tonight,” he finished.
“Kissed how? Paula asked. Her therapist side and girlfriend side were in combat for the warring feelings that burst forth. Perhaps she was not as invincible as she told him the other day. So far, the girlfriend side was winning.
There was no shame as he looked at her. He opened his mouth and closed it once more. He couldn’t apologize. Because saying sorry would be wrong. He’s sorry but not sorry because its Donna and Harvey and everyone just seems to understand that even if they don’t and he has no idea how to vocalize that without sounding like he’s an asshole. He can’t tell her that they’re like this and how he has a decade and a half of history and they just don’t do anything simple or by halves.
She tried another tactic.
“When you compare your relationships, what kind of love do you feel?” She asked, somehow already knowing his answer. This was clearly the therapist taking over to protect her heart.
“You know me,” he tried to begin with and stalled out.
“I know the parts you’ve let me into,” she reminded him.
Her fingers slipped over his own and she tilted her head.
“What day did you and Donna meet?” She wondered aloud.
He recited the date without hesitation.
“And when you started at your law firm?” She continued.
He recited the date like it was yesterday.
“When was the first play you saw her in?” She asked.
When he recited the date, there was a tiny smile playing at the corner of his lips and she watched as he actively attempted to keep it small.
“And when did she leave you?” She was almost finished.
He recited the date and she felt his fist clench involuntarily.
“And what day did you ask me out?” She finished.
He paused.
That was all he needed to know. It was all she needed to know.
“Your heart has known all along, Harvey,” Paula said with a teary tone just under the surface.
He watches as she moves away and digs into her purse before shouldering the bag.
“Paula,” he tries but whatever he wanted to say is moot as he doesn’t really have more than her name on his lips.
“Goodbye, Harvey,” Paula Agard whispers as she places the key he gave her next to the picture Jessica left on his island counter.
She rounds the island and leans in and kisses his cheek, smiles sadly, and slowly walks herself down the hall to the door.
He hears the door shut and turns and braces his hands on either side of the island and stares at the picture.
He has no idea what the hell to do with all this.
He’s not surprised he can’t sleep. So, he cleans. Washes his sheets and puts new ones on. He throws away the Pop-Tarts because he really can’t stand them and collects her things and wonders if he has a bankers box in a closet for this to be easier when she does return for her things.
--
They’ve worked ten feet from each other the entire day without saying a word. They're professionals at avoiding everything until it comes to an impasse so no one else at Pearson Specter Litt knows a thing and its status quo from 7am to 9pm when the firm is their own personal ghost town.
His office is quiet and dark and she knows exactly where he is because she and Louis were just there the other day because Jessica Pearson started it all and so that's somehow where everyone goes to work out their shit. Her stomach churns with butterflies and a million different emotions as she stands at the rooftop door and sees the door stopper allowing for the automatic lock to not engage. It means she’s guessed right and he’s here and she closes her eyes and breathes in once before blowing it out and moving quietly onto the roof.
“Harvey,” she whispers as she draws her coat closer as she hugs her arms to her chest. At 52 floors up, the wind is bitterly cold and she thinks it appropriate.
He doesn’t look at her and she thinks about raising her voice to be heard but she knows he heard her the first time and doesn’t want to start off on an argument.
“I told Paula,” Harvey tells her. “She and I…”
This one wasn’t any different than the long list of names she can recite to him.
“You don’t get to do that,” Donna cuts him off. “You don’t get to be the better person here.”
“What the hell else was I supposed to do?” Harvey turned and finally looked at her.
Donna bit her lip and shook her head. She didn’t know and it was killing her.
They’re caught somewhere in the middle—where they’ve always been since the day they met, really. She doesn’t love him but she loves him and its complicated and she thinks that a fucking copout because when are they not complicated. Somehow they always find their way back to one another despite what they’ve been thrown at or into and she wants to use her theatre degree and pretend it's all okay but he’s always been able to sense when its not. He doesn’t know what to do with the situation but he knows that she’s feeling something and that’s the part that hurts the most, she thinks.
“Why now?” He asked, addressing the biggest elephant in the room.
She couldn’t tell him about how she didn’t want to end up like Louis with all this regret and resentment. It wasn’t just that, either. She just wants what's best and the best thing in her life has somehow always been them but it's not just up to her and she couldn't follow the rules anymore. Not after everything they've been through and continue to go through.
“Because you can’t go back,” she whispered with a tone that was hard to hear without tugging at your heartstrings.
His brows furrowed and he opened his mouth to ask her when she held up a hand to stop him.
“I lied,” she says as she taps her nail on the railing. Her fingers curl around it, perhaps for some sort of literal support and she continues. “I couldn’t let you go unless I knew.”
“Go?” He says quietly.
“That day, in the diner,” she reminds him of the time he offered her a job that’s brought them to where they are now. “I wanted more.”
She watched him open his mouth as if to drop into a surprised face but he held back and she thinks he’s not all that surprised because when they were together it wasn’t just sex and he damn well knew it, too.
“You weren’t ready,” she told him and she doesn’t have to point out that she’s right because she’s always been the one to read him without any prompting. And she thinks that’s maybe what saved them but also what’s been an issue between them.
"You didn't ask," he reminded her. "And, you had that rule. Two rules."
She nods. She knows but its always been the both of them in this tug-o-war. She looks at him. Really looks at him and his eyes are wide, open, and trusting that she knows where the hell this is going. That she will continue to be their compass in this mess because she's always had his back and knows what to do long before he knows.
“You know when I fell in love with you?” She asked, knowing full well he didn’t.
He shook his head and cocked his head to the side—a sign he was intrigued.
“That night we went to see your dad’s last performance,” she told him. “I was about to get you to make fun of this guy who had just come into the bar with me but when I looked over at you, you had this boyish look of wonder on your face.”
He could easily picture it. But she had been late to the game. He had been the first, just as she predicted.
“The Mackenzie case,” Harvey called out as she moved to head back downstairs.
She paused and turned.
“You don’t want to hear when I fell in love with you?” Harvey asked, somewhat put out.
“Our fights were intense,” he reminded her. “It was us against the world there and I didn’t want to lose you. I said shitty things to you and somehow you showed up the next day and fought back.”
She was tempted to belittle his memory because he's leaving a hell of a lot out. But she looked at him closely and saw the fond gleam in his eye and although they joked about it from the moment they met in the bar, there was that damn spark that has never gone away.
“You know no one stays,” Harvey whispered and she almost missed it but he had stepped closer as she mused.
“I’ve stayed, Harvey,” she starts to tear up and her voice cracks. “I’ve stayed for fifteen years.”
“I know,” he gets out between the lump in his throat and his anger at himself for being an asshole and making her cry, or almost cry.
She laughs and a cry bubbles up but she wipes at her eyes and doesn’t let the tears drop.
“You were the one with the rules,” he reminded her.
“And this is why,” she says as she does a sweeping gesture.
She’ll never outrun the City. She’s an actress. She’s a legal secretary. She’s Harvey’s watchdog. In the City’s view, she slept her way to the top because they’re like this and she feels sick when that’s brought up. Because Andy Malik was not the first. There was Cameron Dennis. Travis Tanner. Daniel Hardman. Allison Holt. Evan Smith. Anita Gibbs. She’ll never be good enough and that’s what he just doesn’t get because he’s the best goddamn closer this city’s ever seen and she can’t compete with that… not really.
“Wait,” Harvey says quickly as he gives her a once over. “Donna.”
She shakes her head and turns away to head back down the roof and to her office to grab her purse. The elevator is closing by the time she sees his face again and their eyes meet and she only breaks the contact when the elevator doors close and she can no longer see him.
He follows her down thanks to another elevator being not far behind the one she went down in and she’s halfway down the long bank of elevators in hallway before the turn table doors when he catches up and like seven years ago, he pulls her arm gently to stop her. They have a wordless conversation that says so much but not enough and he can’t get anything out because she’s always been able to read him but she refuses to do it this time because she doesn’t want to infer anything and he needs her to read him because he can’t get the words out.
She smiles sadly and gives him that little huffy laugh that’s her way of needing him to talk rather than being an action-man. She waits a breath, and two, and three, before she slips out of his hold. Her heels continue to click against the tile and she gets to the turn table and pushes the door to pass through the entrance when he moves again to follow her.
Its misting outside because autumn is bearing down on New York City and she wonders if mother nature can somehow have ESP and project her emotions into the weather. She doesn’t have to wait long because the car she called for is already parked outside the doors and she makes her way down the sidewalk when she hears him call out her name.
“Donna,” he says quietly.
She moves her arm slowly, her fingers moving across his cheek and cups the back of his head. She tilts her head and her fingers run through his hair at the nape of his neck as their lips meet and she sighs as she closes her eyes. He returns the kiss this time, his fingers slipping into her hair and when she tries to pull back he follows. Its slow and she sinks into him unconsciously. She pushes her other hand against his chest and when he pulls back, he watches her lips as she unconsciously darts out her tongue and bites her lip.
“Harvey,” she whispers and he almost misses it but he’s watching her lips so he knows she’s said his name. “You need to let me go so you can figure out what you want.”
She looks at him with this look and he gets chills.
They’ve fucked up somewhere in the in between and they place they blame on themselves and each other because they really have always been each other’s compass, Donna more so than Harvey, but with this more its never been not complicated. For fifteen years she’s put him first and he broke the rules, but so did she, and she’s a goddamn liar because the feelings don’t go away—not really. She might have forgotten how to be in love, how to love, but she’s never really not loved him and she needs to let him go. And, he needs to let her go. Because she knows what she needs but she needs to give him time to make his own decisions without her there to act as his guide.
She gets into the waiting car and as soon as Ray pulls away from the curb, she looks to the person next to her. Jessica pulls out a Kleenex from thin air and Donna’s watery eyes turn to tears and Ray adjusts the rearview mirror so their eyes don’t meet. Jessica wraps an arm around Donna and cradles the younger woman’s head to her shoulder and closes her eyes against the onslaught of emotions.
Harvey watches the car until it blends in with the rest of the traffic still making its way up and down the streets before he reminds himself he needs to go back to his office and get his things. Plus, his driver would be a half hour to hour depending on where he was taking Donna.
On Harvey’s desk, in her script, a letter tells him where she’ll be after he’s had space and time to think. In the heat of the moment he crumples the paper and throws it and Louis watches from the elevator banks. He texts Gretchen to cancel all his meetings for tomorrow and he closes Harvey’s door and sits on the couch, ready to form a game plan.
fin?