"It's an outrage!" Her high-pitched voice bounces off every piece of glass in the bathroom.

"Lydia, they're leather, it goes with anything," Donna tells her daughter, edging on impatience.

They've been at this for some ten minutes, her sitting on the edge of the tub and Lydia standing between her knees as she lotions, powders and dresses her, arguing all the while.

"My coat is pink, my outfit is lilac, the shoes have to match the coat," Lydia explains looking at her mother dead in the eye with utter seriousness "Don't they, Edith?"

"They really do, Aunt Donna," The other little girl agrees, leaning over the bathroom counter while clumsily applying strawberry chapstick.

Rachel laughs at her daughter from her own makeup station "Honey, don't contradict your aunt."

"I'm sorry momma," Edith complies "But it's important to look your best, always."

"That's what I'm saying!" Lydia pipes up.

Rachel laughs again and Donna rubs her temples trying to keep cool.

"I only brought you this coat and these boots," She tries to reason "You'll be cold if you don't wear either one."

"But the pictures!" Lydia exclaims, throwing her arms up exasperatedly.

Donna sighs deeply, letting her head drop, eyes closed and breathing slow and calculated, doing her best not to snap as she promised herself she would never, summoning all the awful childhood memories of her mother's hysterics to remember the importance of keeping cool. It's getting increasingly harder not to however; when Lydia is too much like both of them, argumentative and relentless, too smart for her own good and worse, theirs.

"I'm getting your dad," Donna tells the little blonde girl, cradling her face between both her hands and finding those hazel eyes she never thought much of when they were just hers. Now she notices the sparse golden freckles and the strings of green and a brightness that is entirely Lydia's and her frustration ebbs away almost completely, "I love you baby, but you're too stubborn" she says, tired but lovingly.

"That's what you and daddy always say to each other."

Donna and Rachel snort laughs at the exact same time, "She's paying attention," Rachel remarks good-naturedly.

"Are you girls almost ready?" Mike chimes in from just outside the half open door.

Rachel leans back to look at him, holding her bumb to keep balance, and smiles, "We're having a slight complication," she answers, "Lydia has objections to her outfit; she called it an 'outrage'"

"Does she know what that means?" He asks, bemused.

"I'm right here Uncle Mike" Lydia chastises, placing her hands on her hips authoritatively.

Mike peeks around the door to look at his goddaughter, "Aren't you just five?"

"And a half" She corrects proudly, "Aren't you too old to make fun of little kids?"

Donna and Rachel double over laughing, Mike engages in a staring contest with Lydia until she shows him the tongue while her mother is distracted.

"Are you sure she's Harvey's and not some demon shadow baby like in Game of Thrones? You have the red hair and I was never 100% convinced you're not a witch"

"If I was a witch I'd definitely turn you into a frog for that" Donna bites back.

"It's okay papa, I'll protect you" Edith reassures him, done applying a tinge of perfume and a whole lot of blush that Rachel immediately begins to wipe off.

Mike just sighs, "Thank you princess" he says, defeated and wondering how he got to this point, "But you can save your strength for your baby brother or sister, I'm sure they'll need protection from your witch cousin."

"Careful, her powers peak on Halloween," Donna warns him while Lydia glares vindictively and Rachel offers a sympathetic glance.

He decides to drop it and they all continue to go about their business. Rachel throws away the pinked baby wipe and explains to Edith that makeup is for older girls and that she's just as beautiful without it while Mike agrees with a long complimentary rant. Donna gives up on the boots issue and moves onto brushing Lydia's hair, smiling and allowing her fingers to linger on the soft golden curls; selfishly half-wishing they were red.

Their peace is only disturbed when Harvey's voice drifts up from the first floor calling for Mike.

"Tell him to come up please?" Donna requests, clipping butterfly pins on Lydia's hair.

"I'll think about it," Mike says, stepping out with a grin.

Donna rolls her eyes "Think carefully and remember I handle the payroll," She shouts after him.

They hear him trot down the stairs and call for Harvey, losing interest once he's out of earshot.

"Momma, can you braid my hair?" Edith says, widening her big blue eyes pleadingly.

"Sure, babe, pull up the stool" Rachel agrees, finishing up her eyeliner and flexing her fingers in preparation.

"Can you braid my hair aunt Rachel?" Lydia questions, lighting up, and Donna snorts, just done arranging her curls.

"You have no mercy for me," She says, pulling her daughter's chin so their twin eyes meet "I can braid hair, you know?"

"You can?" She asks, disbelieving.

Rachel laughs and Donna covers her eyes with a hand, sighing.

"Lydia, you must be the only person who thinks your mother can't do everything."

"Nobody can do everything," The girl argues.

"True, but your momma comes close to it," Rachel says, starting to pull and tangle Edith's thick dark hair "She's a badass."

Donna opens her mouth to agree but Harvey beats her to it, "She really is," he says, showing up at the door and flashing her a wink, "I was summoned?"

Donna smiles, struck again by the silliness of feeling so in love after seven years, especially when he returns the gesture and warmth spreads in waves from her heart and belly.

"She can't leave the house unless her boots match her coat," She explains, "Apparently that's an 'outrage'"

Harvey narrows his eyes, turning to his daughter "What will this take, Lydia?"

"Nonnegotiable" Lydia declares, crossing her arms and stomping a foot.

"I don't like that baseline" He tells her, crouching to her level and holding her hips to pull her focus to him "What did I explain about deals?"

Lydia bites her lip and looks up, trying to remember. He allows her the time, and Donna watches him stare at those hazel eyes that melted her earlier; he softens, even more helpless than she is when it comes to this beautiful, clever, extraordinary, little girl.

"If you don't know, you can say it baby," Donna reassures.

Lydia tilts her head back to look at her and Donna pecks a wet kiss onto her forehead before she can escape. Lydia scrunches her face, wiping off the spot with the back of her hand and glares at her father for laughing, "That's gross"

"You've faced worse parts of my body" Donna jokes. Harvey laughs harder and Lydia just looks between the two of them, confused.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asks, hands on her waist.

"Nothing. Your dad asked you a question, do you have the answer?" Donna says quickly, poking her nose and pointing at Harvey.

"I don't remember," Lydia admits, "But if I don't get matching boots I'm going to scream."

"I wonder if we've spoiled her," Donna muses sarcastically.

"I told you it's important to pick your battles, do you remember what that means?" Harvey asks. Lydia nods, agreeing "Good. So, this is the only outfit we brought, you'll either wear it or stay home" He says, patiently.

"I don't want to stay!" She whines, crossing her arms and pouting.

"And we don't want you to stay, but you'll have to if you don't ease up, honey" Harvey says, brushing the back of a finger over her pink cheek, "Are boots really more important than having fun with your family? Is that a battle you want to pick?"

Lydia bites her lip, thinking hard about the situation, looking back and forth between her parents and then sighing, "Fine, but I really wanted to match." She says, disappointed.

"We will keep that in mind next time we are packing for you, we promise" Harvey says, smiling at her "And you look beautiful either way" he adds for good measure.

"You know," Edith chimes in, hopping off the stool while running her hands over her new french braid, "You could wear pink socks peeking out over the boots, it will look cool!"

All the adults groan.

"Why didn't you say that sooner?" Rachel asks her child, dumbstruck.

"Nobody asked," She answers simply "I have a pink one with cat ears you can borrow Lydia."

"They'll match my kitten gloves!" Lydia says excitedly, pushing past her father and following her cousin out the door with chirpy steps, oblivious to the gobsmacked adults they've left behind.

Rachel, Donna and Harvey look at each other in silence for a couple seconds, not sure what's just transpired.

"We're fools," Donna declares, finally.

"I just-" Rachel starts and stops, lacking the words to express how whipped they all are.

"I'm… gonna go" Harvey says. He stands and moves to the door, stopping as he's about to cross the threshold, "But for the record, that was still great parenting."