She fills a glass up with water and heads back to the bedroom. The house is freezing in the early November air, especially with it still being early and the sun not yet having an opportunity to warm the small living space. She sees him there, wrapped up in the blankets, looking adorable even though he's laying in the middle of the bed. He always calls her a bed hog but he has that tendency too; at least now anyway.

She sets the glass down on the nightstand next to the bottle of ibuprofen. She quickly turns and shuts the bedroom door, blocking the sunlight from entering the room and making the bedroom pitch black. Harvey has learned to sleep later with the darker room, especially on the weekends.

She reaches out and settles her hand on the edge of the bed to get a feel for where it's at. She hears the bed creak slightly and feels his warm fingers secure around her wrist. He tugs her towards the bed, her eyes slowly adjusting to the room.

"Hey, baby," he mutters tiredly. She falls onto him, her hands against his chest. She feels him wrap the sheet around her, his arms quickly following.

"I brought you some water and ibuprofen," she says. He drank more than she did last night. When Scottie had started talking to him, his drink intake only increased. He, however, managed to only become a slight bit more clingy with her instead of the normal very clingy.

"I feel fine," he insists. She feels one of his hands slip beneath the hem of the sweater currently wrapped around her. He pushes his knee between her thighs. He says, "Except for this little inconvenience."

He moves his hips, intentionally rubbing his erection against her leg. He positions himself more heavily against her. Her leg instinctively hooks around the back of his knee, holding him as close to her as possible.

"We had sex three times last night," she says, a playful annoyance seeping through her tone. She can see him grin in the tiny slivers of the sunlight peeking in through the blinds. She quirks an eyebrow to challenge him. She says, "Haven't you had enough yet?"

"If I ever look at you and don't want to have sex with you, you should start to worry that an alien has taken over my body," he says, "It would be the most obvious start to a science fiction movie. Wanting to have sex with you has never been the problem."

"We've made up for all that time we weren't having sex with all of the times we've had sex, don't you think?" She suggests.

"Ella Fitzgerald singing the George and Ira Gershwin songbook a hundred times wouldn't be enough to supplement us not having sex since the first time we had sex," he counters.

It's a weird comparison, so she shakes her head at just how weird he is. She moves her hand to his shoulders, palms flattening against his skin. He sweeps his thumb over her stomach just below her belly button. It prompts her to move her hand down the expanse of his back.

"It's a shame that no one else knows how weird you are," she says.

"That's because you're the only one I'm myself with," he replies. She feels his fingers trickle around to her hip as he pulls her hips closer to his. She watches his mouth split into a contagious grin. He says, "You looked hot last night. Well, you always look hot, but I can hardly keep my eyes off of you when you wear white."

"Who knows," she starts, "Maybe you'll cry when you see me in my wedding dress."

"Maybe I'll cry when I take it off," he says.

"Maybe we shouldn't have sex again until the wedding," she says.

His face falters, the smug look completely leaving it. He jerks his hips forward, digging his pelvis and thighs and knees into her thighs. She hisses in response, the thin material of his boxers and her underwear not quite enough to keep her from feeling the tip of his erection. And just knowing that she turns him on so easily is enough to get her going at times.

"You don't mean that," he replies decidedly; his certainty fades away just as quickly, "Donna, please."

"I do love it when you beg," she muses. She pulls a hand between them to caress his cheek. She squeezes his face softly and guides his face forward, placing a gentle kiss against his lips. She whispers, "But I like sex with you too much to wait until our wedding night to do it again."

He grins in response. She releases her grasp on his face to push her hand down the length of him. Her fingers run over his torso, sticking to his stomach. She feels his lips touch hers again, kissing her deeply. His tongue asks permission to enter her mouth, sliding over the edges of her slightly swollen lips.

She opens her mouth to him, granting him access. She immediately feels tongue dart out against hers. His teeth quickly follow as he takes her bottom lip between his teeth in a gentle bite. An unexpected moan tumbles out of her mouth and vibrates on his teeth. She feels him shift his weight onto her as he settles between her thighs. Her back presses more fully into the mattress, his fingertips brushing across her ribcage as he moves his hand up her torso. He sweeps his thumb across the skin just below her breast. She feels goosebumps litter her skin.

She wonders how he can do that when he touches her, how he knows all of the places that really gets to her. Things with him are drastically different than have been with other men. She has dated other men longer than she's been engaged to him, longer than she's lived with him. But he is the first man she's ever lived with, the first one she'd ever planned to marry. It didn't take any time at all for her to know that she would be happy to spend her life with him. She'd spent years imagining what a life with him would be like. She couldn't even count how many times she had been picturing life milestones with him instead of the man she was supposed to be dating.

In retrospect, she never could have been married to someone else.


She's making a list for groceries in the kitchen when she hears him trip over a box for the umpteenth time in the living room. He grumbles loudly. The grocery list is a long shot that will probably get lost in her purse, if she's being honest with herself.

"I'm tired of tripping over these boxes," he says, entering the kitchen.

"Call Frederik and tell him to pull some real estate listings," she replies. She finally looks up at him. He has furrowed eyebrows and an annoyed look on his face at the prospect of him having to call the real estate agent who has been trying to get his hands on Harvey's condo for years. She says, "I'm sorry, honey. I just have a full calendar this week. And, really, I could happily just live here with you."

"That's because all of your things already fit," he says. He comes up behind her, pressing his best against her back. He wraps his arms around her middle. He leans down just a little and places his chin on her shoulder. He turns his head slightly to kiss her jaw. "Are you ready to go?"

"We can be late," she says. After all, they were late to their own engagement party, they can be late to this.

"Do you not want to go?" He asks, leaning back and putting some space between them.

She sets her pen down on the counter and turns around in his arms. She lifts her palms to his shoulders and looks up at her. She doesn't really care about where they're going, but she loves him. None of her exes could get her to one of these.

"The Brooklyn Nets? Really? You hate Brooklyn," she answers.

"I don't hate Brooklyn," he replies, furrowed eyebrows, "I like Brooklyn. Plus, I got a great deal on courtside seats this season."

"Don't forget that we have a wedding to pay for," she reminds him. She turns away from him and grabs the grocery list. Shoving it into her pricey purse, she zips the accessory up and turns back to him. She adds, "But, because I love you, I will go to all of the sports ball games you want."

"First of all," he starts, "Stop pretending that you don't enjoy basketball. You know all of their names."

She tilts her head slightly in surprise. He smirks at her then, that boyish charm latching on to his features. She does know a lot about basketball. Growing up with brothers she knew she had to learn sports to impress men. That, and it's important for Harvey's clientele that she knows enough stats to give him the one up.

"I only know the names of the cute ones," she finally says.

He shakes his head and lifts a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. He leans forward and kisses her softly. He's the affectionate man she always knew he could be. He's grinning when he pulls back. It makes her feel weak at her knees.

"If you must know," she says dramatically, "I do that for you. It really softens those guys up for you."

"They're all in love with you," he says with certainty. He pulls his hands to his chest. She steps in front of him, walking in the direction of the dining room. He's a few steps behind her. She hears him add, "And you're going to distract the players dressed like that."


The crowd roars to life as one of the players on the court shoots the ball and it swishes in the hoop in tune with the buzzer. She releases a sigh at the realization that it only signals the end of the first quarter and the Nets are down by 11 points. Not that she cares about this basketball game all that much. It doesn't even count because it's a pre-season game.

She reaches for her purse between their seats. Her elbow accidentally hits his thigh, making him turn his attention to her. She feels his hand on her back as she begins digging through her purse for her phone. She finally finds the device and sits back up. She looks over at him and he has a scowl on his face.

"I'm going to get another beer," he informs her, "Want anything?"

"Just some of your beer," she replies with a shrug. He rolls his eyes quickly. He follows his eye roll with a very particular look that tells her everything he needs to know. She says, "Don't give me that look. You've been sharing your drink with me for years."

"You're bored," he says, voice flat. She shakes her head in disagreement. She places her phone screen down in her lap. "I'm honestly surprised you lasted this long."

"Honey, I love you. I'm here," she says, a little bit impatient as she pushes her hair out of her face, "But if you don't back off, you're going to regret it."

He throws his hands up at chest level, proclaiming his innocence. She watches as his eyebrows pop up on his forehead. They've spent the majority of their romantic relationship living together, becoming a thousand times closer than she could ever imagine. The small space has forced them to sometimes bicker about the tiniest things, but with the upcoming months, they will begin to spend more time apart. She is, secretly, a bit more on edge about that than she's letting on.

"Okay," he says slowly, with resignation, "I didn't mean...nevermind. I'm just going to go get that drink."

"Hey," she says, reaching out and catching his wrist, "I'm sorry. I'm just having a hard time with adjusting to all of the changes coming up."

"It's okay, babe," he says. She watches as he swallows like he's trying to contain his emotions. He's tried hard with her. He's more patient with her than he is with anyone. If anything, she's the one who has become more impatient. "We'll figure it out."

She smiles gently and gives him a firm nod. She feels his arm move beneath her touch, fingers quickly sliding into hers. Their fingers entwine together, and he doesn't bother trying to get up to go get that beer. She notices how he's become more supportive, sure of their relationship, more sure of himself since being with her.

"Is it me?" He asks.

"No," she says quickly, "You've been so wonderful and so understanding."

"Then what is it?" He asks.

The buzzer sounds throughout the arena signaling the start of the next quarter. She leans towards him, pushing her shoulder against his. She sighs, angling her body to face him. She settles her other hand on his knee.

She says, "I'm just scared. We've spent so much time together throughout the years, even more over these last six months, and now we will be spending less time together. I'm just used to you being there at any given moment."

"It's just a few days a week," he replies softly. He's handling her not being at work as much a hell of a lot better than she is. It's always been the plan that after Mike and Rachel got married, they would begin to pursue a wedding more aggressively. She hadn't expected that there would be so much more to it than just planning a wedding. He smiles and says, "Plus, I finally figured out how to use that thing that lets me talk to you whenever I want."

"It's just a few days a week until it isn't anymore," she points out. She hears herself. She sounds sad.

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know," she admits. He smiles and she feels him rub his thumb over her knuckle. She shivers beneath his touch, a sigh falling out of her mouth. She says, "I just have been working with preparing a new part-time assistant for you. And I've been setting up all of these meetings. We haven't even set a wedding date yet and I'm already swarmed with questions about it."

"I'm ready to marry you at any time," he replies.

"I know," she replies solemnly. The wood court comes to life before them, causing the room to go from quiet whispers to booming voices. She has to talk louder for him to hear her. She says, "There's just a lot that goes into wedding planning. Your wedding is a very big deal."

"Our wedding," he corrects.

She gives him a small smile. He releases her hand and throws an arm across the back of the chair behind her. She feels his hand on her opposite shoulder and he very quickly pulls her into his side. She settles there, her hand resting on his knee.

After a few seconds, something happens on the court. She knows exactly what but she's going to play dumb (it was a foul that was obviously a foul that went uncalled, not in Brooklyn's favor). Harvey shoots to his feet. He turns to look back at her over his shoulder.

"You want to come with me to get that beer?" He asks.

"Sure," she replies.

She immediately reaches for her purse and discards her phone into it. He gestures for her to go ahead of him. She has to go to the bathroom anyway. Luckily, they are on the end and can easily slip out without disturbing the entire row. She steps out ahead of him but almost immediately feels his hand on her back. They climb the steps and head towards the concession area.

"I'm going to run to the bathroom," she says, pulling her thumb in the direction of the bathroom.

He nods in response. She turns on her heel and heads towards the bathroom. She knows he's following her, that he will politely wait outside of the door for her. She has learned that he is a gentleman, that he is kind and thoughtful. All things that she always knew about him. However, she also knew that he held himself back so he didn't get hurt. She feels lucky that he lets himself be free with her.

She reapplies her lipstick after she's washed her hands. She double checks herself in the mirror and thinks that perhaps Harvey was right. Maybe she did severely over do her wardrobe. The silk jumpsuit really isn't basketball game attire, but she doesn't really think she has anything extremely casual aside from a few sundresses. It's really too cold for those.

When she exits the bathroom, she spots her handsome fiancé leaning against the wall. He is also slightly over dressed compared to most other visitors. He's only wearing khaki pants and a blue cashmere sweater with a light jacket, but he is still overdressed in comparison to others. He has his phone in his hand and he's staring at the screen. She shakes her head at this development, sneaking up to him and snaking her arms around his waist.

She hears his phone lock. He shoves his phone back into his pocket. He places a hand on her forearm, spreading his fingers apart and squeezing her arm. She's going to miss being able to sneak away to hug him or kiss him whenever she wants. She thinks she loves him more than he loves her because he seems okay with this transition.

He turns in her arms, lips immediately landing on hers. It takes her by surprise. She stiffens briefly, caught off guard. It takes her a moment to realize his lips are on hers. Just as she perks up and responds, his lips are leaving hers again. She can't help the pout that pulls at her bottom lip.

He laughs softly in the back of his throat. He says, "What's that for?"

"You just caught me off guard," she replies. He smiles then. She realizes that she just reapplied her lipstick in the bathroom. She pulls back from him a little. She says, "Does my lipstick still look okay?"

"Perfect," he mutters, eyes trailing to her mouth. She leans forward to give him a chaste kiss, this time being more prepared. She releases her hold on him. He slips his fingers behind her belt, catching her from moving too far. He says, "I thought you were concerned about your lipstick."

"Not that concerned," she counters with a small smile.

She watches his smile widen a bit more as he steps forward when she does. They walk towards the place where they can get a beer. They stand in line behind a few people, his hands seeking his pockets out. She reaches for her phone in her purse and starts skimming through the messages. There's a text from Rachel, one from one of her sisters, and one from the woman she's supposed to meet with on Monday morning to begin wedding planning. She smiles at her text from Rachel, which says something about how great the engagement party was.

The line moves along rather quickly given that the concession isn't particularly busy while the game is going. Harvey orders a beer and one of those disgusting hot dogs she's been trying so hard over the last 6 months to get him to stop eating. She rolls her eyes in response, but he doesn't turn to look at her. She knows that he knows she isn't pleased. She will, however, give him a pass for the evening.

She picks up the beer from the counter to take a sip from is as he takes his hot dog. He makes his way to the condiments counter. She trails behind slowly, the cup in her grasp. She waits a few feet away while he fixes his food the way he wants it.

"I saw you here by yourself and just knew that I had to come say something," a voice greets. She lifts his gaze from the beer in her hand to see a man standing before her. He's about her height. She furrows her eyebrows, confused by his greeting. She opens her mouth to say something but he cuts her off before he can. He says, "Are you here alone?"

"No," she replies, lifting her left hand and flashing him her ring, "I'm here with my fiancé. And before you ask, yes, I am one hundred percent certain that I want to marry him."

The few times she has been approached by men since being engaged, they have always asked her if she was sure about being with him. And she is. She has never been more sure about being with anyone in her life. She loves him with everything inside of her.

She leans to her side to get a clearer view of Harvey. She gives him a smile as he turns to see a guy standing in front of her. She watches his jaw tighten. He makes his way over to her. He touches her elbow with his fingertips.

He says, "Everything okay here?"

"Better now," she mutters. She takes a step away from the man. Harvey follows her movement, letting her wrap her hand around his arm as they make their way back to the court.

"Does that happen a lot?" He asks.

"Don't worry about them," she replies, "I just show them this flashy ring and they usually take a hike."

He smirks like he was just awarded a trophy.


She saddles up closer to his side to shield her from the cold. She wraps both hands around his arms, subsequently pulling his upper arm against her breasts. She pushes her fingers over his forearm, nails lightly dragging over his skin, and slips her fingers between his. Threading their fingers together, she feels him push the webs of his fingers against hers.

He shifts his gaze to her as they approach a corner several blocks away from the arena, figuring they could avoid a little traffic by walking a bit. They left before the end of the game anyway because the Nets were losing. Her heels are pinching her feet, but she's long used to that.

"So," he says, "Lets pick a date."

"Now?" She asks, slightly taken aback by the sudden desire.

"Sure," he says, "Why not now?"

She doesn't really have an answer for why not now. Now is as good a time as any. She reaches into her purse for her phone with the hand not holding his as he hails a cab. She unlocks the device and looks for the calendar app.

A cab pulls up to the carb beside them. He pulls the door open and gestures for her to get in before him. She doesn't let him let go of her hand as she does. She scoots to the middle seat of the cab, pulling him into the backseat as she does. He closes the door and tells the driver their address. She notes that it's almost Halloween. Which kicks of the holiday season.

"I need at least 4 months to plan this wedding, but even then it's going to be tough," she tells him.

"Okay," he acknowledges, "So pick any Saturday in March and that's when we will get married."

"March tenth?" She asks.

"Now you have a date," he says with a smile. He squeezes her hand reassuringly. She locks her phone, shoves it back into her purse, and looks at him. He says, "I'm going to miss seeing you every second, but I love you. I know we'll be okay."

"Thanks, baby," she replies. She leans towards him and lightly places a kiss against his lips.