JUST TONIGHT By Atheniandream

- 'She's Mine' Episode Tag. SPOILERS.

He followed her quietly to the elevator, watching as she pushed the red button and waited silently for the doors to open.

She didn't look at him, her eyelashes fluttering slightly in thought, her hands gripping, white knuckled at the straps of her handbag as she chewed her lip.

"Donna," He started; the vacancy of words halting when her eyes flicked up to meet his. She sighed, walking up to him, her hand delving in her bag to pick out a small tissue.

It was only then that he felt the cold moisture on his lip; the slight swell of the skin around it as she moved to press the tissue against his lips.

"You're bleeding." She said.

He had an idea that he wasn't the only one…

She cocked her head at his look; unaware he'd been projecting the thought. She smiled slightly, a mothering look flashing in her eyes as she folded the paper, looking then at the gash on his eyebrow.

"Listen, Donna," He said between dabs of her fingers against his lip. Before he could continue the doors opened, ushering them to enter. She pushed the button for the ground floor, frowning.

"I'm sorry…about Stephen." He said, his voice thick with an emotion he couldn't' identify.

"Thanks." She whispered, uncharacteristically shy.

"I really...I never…" He struggled again, frowning at his inability to speak pressing against the throb growing in his head.

"I know, Harvey."

"None of this is your fault. You weren't to know." He reasoned, watching her.

She glared at him then; ice white face and angular features offset by her green eyes suddenly so brown. "I should have. Harvey, it's the only time I haven't known and I was the last to know. I didn't do my job. I was too busy-"

"You can't be on top of everything all the time." He said, trying to reassure her.

"I was sleeping with a Murderer, Harvey. Something tells me my judgement's been clouded."

"You liked the guy," He said, delicately.

"I was falling for the guy." She said, her hand leaving his face.

It hit like a bullet.

He hadn't been expecting it to…

"Oh." He said.

"Yeah." She echoed, a bitter edge in her voice as the doors opened.

They walked out quietly together, the city lights bouncing off of the exterior of the building.

"He wasn't the right guy for you," He finally said as they waited on the sidewalk.

"You can say that again." She said, a bitter laugh threatening it's way out as her face crinkled at the possibility of the lid coming off on her emotions once more.

His heart skipped a beat at the look on her face. "No, I mean… before that. Before we found out what connection he had; he was never the right guy, Donna. You still have time to find that guy…"

He didn't know why he was saying it. Maybe he had a concussion, maybe he was tired; no amount of maybe's would take it back. Maybe he was past caring...

"Do I?" She said, looking into him; her eyebrows knitting together over her glassy eyes. He couldn't work out what was playing behind her eyes.

He felt the moisture in his lip start to flow again, breaking the contact as he licked his lips.

"Come on...I'll take you home." He said.

"Harvey, I." She protested weakly.

"I want to. Let me take you home."

He must have looked insistent, because she finally nodded, admitting defeat.

Nodding to Ray, he slid into the car next to her, shutting the door behind them both.

As the car left it's spot the sound of her voice cut the air like a knife.

"I don't want to go home yet…" She said, her voice flat.

"You wanna come back to mine?"

"Harvey," She warned immediately, her eyes flashing once more.

"I didn't mean that." He said, rolling his eyes.

She lessened then, sitting back in her seat.

"Ray, drop us off at mine." He said to his driver, who nodded quietly.

He opened the door, watching her glide into his apartment like she owned the place. He understood then; the need to be somewhere that Stephen had never and would never be. He hung up his jacket, moving to the drinks cabinet to pull out the Scotch and two tumblers. When he returned to the lounge she was holding a bag of frozen peas.

"You're not at work, Donna." He chided, his shoulders setting.

"Habit." She explained, walking up to him as he placed the tumblers on the breakfast bar. He winced at the cold pressure of the peas wrapped in what he could only assume was a hand towel from his bathroom, his eyes watching her face as her hand pressed down on his shirt covered shoulder, holding the peas against his jaw.

"Why is it always 'peas'?" He asked, muffled against the bag of vegetables.

"I'm surprised you even have them in there. If you want I can slap the only lambchop you have on it instead?" She offered, her eyes lighting up for a second with their devilish wit.

He smiled then, trying to take the bag out of her hands.

She gave him a look, pulling the bag out of his reach. "Pour the Scotch, hotshot." She demanded playfully. He could see it in her eyes that she was tired. The day had really done a number on them both. He turned, watching her move with him, peas still on his jaw as he poured out a measure for each of them into the tumblers. She plopped the bag into his hands then, taking her glass with her to the couch. He followed quietly, placing the bag on the coffee table, watching as the melting ice spread across the table, watery and glittering in the low lighting of the apartment.

"I never did thank you," She said.

"For what?" He asked, feeling the hot/cold moisture run down his throat with a finality.

"Beating the shit out of him." She replied.

"He should never have gone after you," He paused, taking a swig. He watched her glare at him, alarm suddenly on her face. "I mean, if he was keeping that kind of secret; that big of a crime." His words skipped at the look on her face. "Look, Donna, you know I want you to be happy, I do, I just,"

"I know." She said, sighing tiredly. "You realise of course, that neither of us are very good at nurturing the other's happiness...outside of what we have,"

"Yeah...I seem to remember you hounding me over calling Zoe out of the office." He admitted.

"I just wanted you to tell me. I didn't want you to have to keep it from me,"

"You know there's a reason why we keep things from each other?" He said. It was oddly assertive of him.

"That's not a conversation we need to have today, Harvey." She said, immediately shutting down.

"No. There's been enough today."

"Do you mind if I," She started, pausing at her words.

"What?" He asked.

"Can I just…crash on the couch, tonight? I'd like to burn my bed before I sleep in it." She replied dryly.

"Sure. You take the bed. I'll crash on the couch."

"No Harvey, you're gonna ache like hell tomorrow. I'll take the couch."

"Donna," He warned.

"No objections. I'll be fine." She said, swallowing the last of her scotch before standing. "But, I'm picking what I want to wear." She demanded, a small defiance in her posture.

"Fine by me," He replied nonchalantly; sipping at his scotch. He resisted the urge to watch her walk into his bedroom; taking another larger swig to dull the idea.

When she returned she was dressed in his Harvard sweater and a pair of slacks.

"Good choice." He said, smirking.

"I like to think so," She smirked back, plopping back into her space on the couch.

He took the hint; walking out into the closet to pick out a throw, then to his bed for a pillow.

"Here. If you get… uncomfortable, just kick me out of the bed, okay?" He said, looking down at her.

"Okay." She replied. She caught him before he disappeared into his bedroom. "Harvey?"

He turned around.

"Thank you." She said.

He didn't quite understand what for. She would have done the same for him. "Goodnight Donna," He said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

He felt the weight in the bed go; a slight kink in the memory foam mattress as a draft hit the quilt.

It was the cold feet that drew his attention. He turned in the bed, his sleep laden eyes making out the 3am on the clock and her hair spread along the end of his returned pillow.

"Hey," He said, his voice thick with sleep.

"Hey." She whispered back, getting comfortable on her side.

"You're taking the bed hostage, aren't you?" He said, pretending to frown at her.

"No I just…" She said. He watched her face struggle with the words in the almost darkness. "Tonight, I want to sleep next to someone who… isn't him. Just tonight." She warned, but soft somehow.

He didn't know what to make of her words; of her reasoning. But then he realised that it didn't really matter; because she was wearing his clothes and staring at him with her hair rippling out over his bed and if this is the closest to her that he ever gets without having to declare it then he'll take it and be happy with it.

Just Tonight.

"Come here," He whispered, laying on his back, watching and waiting as she scooted slowly over to him to rest her head against his the crook of his arm, her hand flattening out onto his chest, and her legs playing precariously against his side. He felt her slowly exhale then; tucking her head down and the rise and fall of her breasts against the right side of his chest in the comfort of his old sweater.

It's the best night sleep he's had in what seems like forever...

Just a little something between updates.