Chapter Text
Angst
“I think I’m in love with her,” Harvey says looking bewildered like he’s surprised by his own revelation, and even if it’s not news, even if Donna has known the truth for a while as she watched and encouraged and helped Harvey through this relationship of his, hearing the words out loud still leave an edge that slices deep, and it almost takes her too long to dig up an appropriate smile.
AU – Spies
Her talent is with firearms and access to a network of informants across the globe, his is with hand-to-hand combat and an affinity for impossible missions, and together they can disarm an opponent in record time with rapid-fire wit, and lies as smooth as a single-malt scotch.
Crack!fic
Halloween is a normal holiday affair he's mostly able to avoid each year until Donna and the trip to New Orleans, but by the time they're standing on the parade float as it rolls through the street to a cacophony of music and cheers, her body paint smeared over his skin like some abstract form of living art, he's not even sure anymore whose idea got them to this point.
Crossover - Arrow
“I bet he looks great in green,” Donna muses aloud as they watch Harvey and Oliver shake hands, and when Felicity makes a choking sound and looks over at her suspiciously, Donna just winks and adds, “I know everything.”
First Time
She learns what she needs to know in the time it takes for him to walk from the elevator to Cameron's office, and she's keenly aware what it will mean—why she suddenly, impulsively wants the challenge—and she's already sweet-talked her way into a transfer to the open secretary position with the associates before Harvey even finishes his interview.
Fluff
He holds Donna's beer as she readjusts her cap, the rest of the packed stadium on its feet as the inning draws to a close, excitement and tension thick in the air around them, but he can’t recall much of the game, isn’t even sure of the score, his interest entirely captivated by the company he keeps and the faint press of the ring in his pocket.
Humor
After he decides to pass judgment on her weekend Telenova marathon, she quietly changes his computer and cell phone language settings to Spanish and waits until he admits defeat.
Hurt/Comfort
He loses the case for her—no requests and nothing declared because she would never ask and he would never admit; everything they are is unspoken intention—and it's late into the evening when he finally finds her in the women's bathroom, her eyes still red and watery with conflicting emotion, everything that matters most in her world held in his sacrifice.
Smut
Ten years is far enough in the past that most details are remembered as little more than outlines of important memories on faded Polaroids, but the familiar remains a permanent mark on her skin, her body responding to lines drawn and redrawn in the drag of his hand, the pull of his mouth at the crook of her neck, a slow thrust to the tempo that still beats in her veins.
UST
He says it to her back as she retreats, casts the confession out to her because he's a coward brought to uncertainty by a simple phrase too many years in the making, and it's desperation that tightens his hand around the line spooling away from him, distance slipping between his fingers taking hope and leaving fear until suddenly she stops, a silhouette in the doorway caught by the three words stretching between them.