Rachel breathes deeply. "I can't have children." The words are followed by a momentary silence, broken by the sound of Harvey sighing heavily. His face falls, lips tightening as he searches for the right words.
"Jesus. Rachel, I- I'm sor-" he starts.
"Forget it, Harvey," she cuts him off. "I know you don't give a shit about kids. Besides, we have bigger fish to fry."
Harvey shifts in his chair. "Look, as much as I would love to get out of here as soon as possible- if you need some time…"
"No. I can't," Rachel insists. "If I do, I'll just fall apart."
"Sometimes, that's OK. Healthy, even."
"That's rich coming from you."
"I needed therapy to undo the damage of burying my shit, Rachel. It may have benefitted me professionally, but it was a detriment in every other aspect of my life," Harvey warns, voice raised. "Don't make the same mistake I did."
She nods. "Point taken."
"Is this why you quit your job?" Rachel stays quiet, the answer clear on her face. "You came back to avoid telling Mike, didn't you?" he prods.
"No…that's not it," she murmurs.
Harvey briefly processes this in his head. "So, Mike knows then…how'd he take it?"
"He was wonderful, of course."
"Then what happened? Why the sudden change in scenery?" he continues probing. "Why did you leave your job?"
Rachel exhales, eyes glistening with tears. "I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop."
Harvey swallows and looks at her sympathetically. "Who says it will?" he replies softly. "Rachel, this is Mike we're talking about; he cares about your happiness more than anything else. And he knows as well as anyone that family isn't defined by DNA."
Rachel dries her eyes and clears her throat. "Thanks, Harvey."
"Don't mention it."
"Now…if you'll excuse me," she says, rising from her seat. "it's time for me to repay the favor."
Rachel finds herself in Andy Malik's office once more. She stands inches from his desk, patiently waiting as he finishes a phone call. Malik slams the phone down, glaring daggers at her. "Whatever you're here for this time, I'm sure I can't help you."
"Actually," she says, pulling out a small recording device, "I think you can."
"What is that?" he groans irritably.
"It's a Dictaphone."
"I know what the hell it is!" he hisses. "Why are you showing it to me?"
"It's a funny story. My dear friend always recorded everything on his Dictaphone, and it got me to thinking…what if the great Andrew Malik, in all his hubris, were to incriminate himself…and what if I got every second on tape?" He pales, the reality of the situation setting in as Rachel plays the recording. "And imagine my luck when you did."
"Rachel, you must know it's illegal to record someone without their consent."
"Then it's a good thing I'm not using it in a court of law," she counters.
"What do you want?" he frowns.
"Besides Harvey's freedom? Your letter of resignation- on your boss' desk by the end of the week. After you make whatever calls you have to to get Harvey released," she demands. She bends over his desk threateningly. "I don't care how many fucking strings you have to pull."
Fury burns through Malik's veins. "You're going to regret this."
Rachel straightens up and deposits the device back into her purse. "Somehow, I doubt that." She turns away and confidently struts off.
Stepping out into the crisp autumn air, Harvey exhales as if to let out a breath he had been holding in for the past three months. He closes his eyes, absorbing the bright golden rays of the sun. When he opens them again, a familiar face appears. "I don't know how to thank you."
"I only did what you did for Mike. I just wish I got it done sooner."
Harvey envelops her in a warm embrace. "I'll be fine."
"I know you will." She drops her arms as they part and retrieves her phone. "Especially because I have a very important voicemail for you." She taps a button, and the message starts to play.
Rachel, it's Sean. It took more than a few phone calls and kissing the right asses, but you can let Harvey know he's been reinstated into the Bar. And tell him not to make a habit of jeopardizing his career, will ya? Oh- one last thing: tell Harvey to give me a call. I owe that guy a drink.
Harvey shakes his head, at a loss for words. "Rachel I…I don't know what-" he struggles.
"Don't mention it," Rachel assures him. "Besides, that wasn't the only important thing waiting for you." As she speaks, she steps aside, revealing Donna.
"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes."
"Literally, from what I hear." He gives her a look. "Sorry, too soon?" she chuckles.
"You were the only thing that got me through, Donna." At this, she grasps the back of his head and wraps her arms around his neck. After a moment, they both pull back enough to rest their foreheads against one another. Donna rests her hands over his ears and Harvey rests his hands on hers. "You're wearing the ring."
"I am. And that's not all." Her arms fall away as she digs around in her purse for something. She produces a document when she's finished and raises it for Harvey to see.
"You got us a marriage license," he concludes happily.
Donna grins. "How do you feel about Bora Bora?"
Harvey draws her close and presses his lips affirmingly to hers, finally at peace. "Donna, you know I don't take vacations…but I'll make an exception just this once."
Upon returning home a couple of hours later, another familiar face greets the three of them outside Harvey's apartment building.
"Look what the cat dragged in," Harvey greets him. The two exchange a laugh and a one-armed hug.
"Ironically, I'm not the one who looks like the victim of an animal attack," Mike claps back.
Harvey shrugs. "Sometimes when you cage the beast, the beast gets angry."
Mike shakes his head and pats Harvey's shoulder. "Since you're fresh out of prison, I'm going to pretend you didn't just quote a bad X-Men movie and compare yourself to Wolverine."
"And I'm going to pretend you're here to see me and not your lovely wife," Harvey retorts, clapping him on the back as he heads inside, Donna following closely behind.
Mike moves toward Rachel but stops short and gives her a knowing look. "Let me guess, Harvey talked to you," she grumbles.
"Yeah, but I wish you did."
She sighs, wistful. "I know…so do I. We left things on a positive note and I just didn't want to exasperate the situation."
"How'd that work out for you?" he chides playfully.
"Not great, actually," Rachel laments.
"Well, I think I have something that will cheer you up." Just then, her phone beeps in her hand, a notification indicating a new email. She opens the email and finds a document attached.
"What's this? Form I-800A?" she says quizzically, looking up from the screen.
"Application for Determination of Suitability to Adopt a Child. I hope you're in the mood for some heavy reading 'cause I also have a shitload of research to send you."
Tears begin to spill down Rachel's cheeks. "We're really doing this? We're gonna adopt a baby?"
"Nothing would make me happier, Rachel." Overcome with joy, she pockets the phone and jumps into his arms, planting a kiss tenderly on his lips.
