3 weeks later

Donna nervously taps her fingers against the doorframe. She is standing in front of the Graysons' house, but so far she hasn't been able to gather the courage to actually press the doorbell. When Donald Grayson suggested she would meet Elizabeth, Donna had frozen. It was an idea equal parts terrifying and exhilarating. To meet the girl she gave up almost 18 years ago, but thought about so many times since. Throughout the years, Donna has thought about contacting Grayson, but she never did, not wanting to disrupt Elizabeth's life. However, now the request comes from Elizabeth herself, and that almost makes Donna feel like she has to.

After taking a deep breath, Donna presses the doorbell in a sudden moment of bravery. She hears the sound echoing through the house. And suddenly it's real. Within moments, she is going to meet her daughter. She quickly looks down at her outfit again, and runs her hand through her hair. This morning she spent an agonizingly long hour thinking about what to wear. She pulled out several dresses, needing to feel strong and confident and in control. Until Harvey gently dissuaded her, telling her that it might intimidate. And she agreed with that, so she chose a pair of jeans and a black sweater that might not be as form-fitting as her dresses, but black always makes her feel powerful, so that was the compromise she chose.

Footsteps move closer to the door, that swings open moments later. Donna lets out a relieved breath when she finds Donald Grayson in front of her; she wasn't sure meeting Elizabeth on the doorstep would have been the best idea. "Come in," Donald warmly smiles as he steps aside. He gestures to a coat rack where Donna deposits her coat and purse, and then she follows him inside. "Liz is in the living room," he tells her, "can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?" She swallows and then shakes her head, the nerves making her a little nauseous.

A long hallway. A door to the left. And then Donna finds herself in a stylish but warm room. A hardwood floor, art and pictures on the walls. Two white couches and a glass coffee table on a fluffy rug. And on one of the couches a teenage girl who looks up, her nervous expression mirroring Donna's own. Both of them seem a little starstruck, frozen in place. Donald breaks them out of it, "Donna, take a seat," he tells her, before looking at his daughter, "and Liz, what did I tell you about shoes on the couch?" The girl groans something but kicks her sneakers off as Donna makes her way to the couches and lowers herself down. Donald smiles at them, "I'll leave you to it."

"Hi," Donna carefully smiles at Elizabeth, taking the girl in. Tight jeans, brightly colored socks and a black and white striped shirt. Her hair is long, down to her elbows, falling loosely around her. It's not red exactly, more strawberry blond, but clear enough that Donna is pretty sure that's her own genes reflected. When their eyes meet, Donna is taken aback for a second. Elizabeth's pair is blue, an icy blue that is so clearly her fathers that Donna feels thrown back into time for a moment. She shakes herself out of it, not wanting to think of Jack. Instead she focusses on the freckles on Elizabeth's pale cheeks, another thing they have in common.

"Hi," Elizabeth's voice is soft, unsure. Donna notices she fiddles with her fingers, a nervous habit that she recognizes. Another beat of silence passes, until Donna takes a breath and the initiative. "What would you like?" She asks, "are there things you want to know? Do you want me to talk? Do you want to talk?" Elizabeth shrugs, as her eyes dart around the room, landing on Donna and then bouncing away again. Donna offers a reassuring smile, "I'll go first."

Over the next few minutes, Donna babbles about herself. Growing up in Connecticut, her parents' divorce, moving to New York, ending up as a legal secretary and eventually COO. Meeting Harvey and the dance around each other before they ended up together and moved here. She outlines her life, but leaves the period in which Elizabeth was born out of it, sensing that they need to establish a little bit of a bond before they can go into that. As she talks, she can see and feel the girl relaxing a little as well, and slowly the conversation changes from a monologue to a dialogue.

Elizabeth is smart with words and people, but has to work hard for acceptable grades in school. She likes running and going to the gym but loves movie marathons or binge-watching tv-shows on Netflix with a lot of snacks. She has no clue what she wants to do after high school, she likes photography but isn't sure whether she wants to make a career out of it. When she learns that Donna used to study theater, she laughs, "that would explain my name." Her name, which she likes, but thinks is too long and formal and classic, she usually shortens it to Liz.

The conversation flows easily, and Donna is amazed by the girl in front of her. The girl who clearly inherited some of her genes, but is such a unique person. Witty and funny and wise for her age, but also still a 17-year-old girl. They sit and talk for a long time, until eventually Liz falls silent. She stays silent for a moment, hesitancy written all over her face. Donna gives her space, even though she knows the question that is going to come. And indeed, after a few more moments, Liz opens her mouth, "why did you give me up?" She asks, coming straight to the point.

Donna swallows. This was the moment that she dreaded most beforehand. She had told the whole story to Harvey weeks ago, and they had talked about it a lot more after that. The last few days he has been nothing but supportive and he is the one who helped her figure out what to answer. Still, the words don't immediately form. She takes another breath, "because I was young, and alone. I didn't think I could give you the life you deserved," she looks down, her own fingers now fumbling, "and because it hurt too much. Jack, your… My… Your biological father, he cheated on me and got mad when I left him. When I found out I was pregnant he still didn't want anything to do with me. So I was young and heartbroken and so, so, lost… I couldn't raise a child."

Slowly, Donna raises her eyes, meeting Liz's blue ones. The girl nods, "that's pretty much what my parents told me," she says, "they were never secretive about any of it. And I never… Never felt the need for anything more than them. They were the best parents I could have wished for." She swallows, her eyes clouding. "But last year, when mom… When she died…" She stops, squeezing her eyes shut. Donna's heart aches for her, and slowly she moves a little closer on the couch, carefully taking Liz's hand and brushing her thumb over her knuckles. Liz opens her eyes again, "I don't expect you to be my mother. I can't ask that of you. And I don't want that. But…" Her bottom lip trembles, "I felt… Feel… So lost. And I wanted to know where I come from."

Liz looks down at their hands. Then she shrugs, and shakes her head, exhaling slowly. Donna faintly smiles at her, "it's a lot. What happened to you. Everything we talked about today." It wasn't a question, but still Liz nods. Donna softly squeezes her hand, "never hide those emotions away, okay?" She is vaguely aware that this might not be advice that Liz wants from her, but she feels an overpowering need to say something to protect this girl that she feels so strongly for, even after just two hours of talking to each other.

"Can we do this more often?" Liz softly asks, blue eyes – still shimmering with tears – meeting Donna's hazel pair. "Of course," Donna gently smiles. Liz nods, and then smiles too. A watery half-smile, but a smile nevertheless. Donna looks at her, "is there anything you want now? Or is it enough for you now?" Liz takes a breath, "I think it's enough." She softly admits. "I do too," Donna agrees, earning another small smile. "It's been a lot."

Liz walks Donna out, leaning against the wall as Donna puts on her coat and opens the door. Suddenly she pushes herself upright, approaching Donna, "can we hug?" The question comes quickly, as if she wants to throw it out before she stops herself. A smile forms on Donna's face as she nods, and before she knows it, they are wrapped in an embrace and she is running her fingers through Liz's long hair. When they pull back, both of them smile faintly. They exchanged phone numbers, and know this is not goodbye, just the beginning of a future of getting to know each other.

Sooooo, that was it for this story! For now at least, because I do think there are many, many possibilities to be explored. So who knows what I might write in the future ;)