A quick epilogue - this time set in 2020 and with a better ending. Inspired in part by my own experience, and what Sarah posted (and then deleted) on Instagram.
Everyone say thank you to Fake Sara (catsballeths on Twitter) for convincing me to write this!
"OH MY GOOOOD!" he hears her groan from their bedroom, an indication that she'd woken up, despite his best attempts to keep quiet and let her sleep in. It's early on a Saturday morning - much earlier than he'd prefer to be out of bed - but given the long week they'd had he'd decided to get up early and make Donna her favorite strawberry pancakes.
"Did they call it?" he asks as she wanders into the kitchen, tying her bathrobe around her waist and gesturing for him to pour her a cup of coffee.
"Not yet," she replies unenthusiastically, "it's officially day five of Election Day."
"More like Election Week," he mutters, tipping in some vanilla and passing her the coffee mug.
"Looks like there's going to be two runoffs in Georgia now, which is good. And Biden's lead is growing there and in Pennsylvania," she reports, sliding her phone across the counter so he can take a look at the New York Times updates that'd come in overnight.
Since Tuesday night, she'd been practically glued to her phone, refreshing the page constantly even when she knew there'd be no news. Harvey remembered how excited, and then how crushed, she'd been on Election Night in 2016 so he'd tried to make the night as stress-free as possible - takeout from her favorite Thai place in Seattle alongside her favorite wine - but no amount of distraction, it seemed, could dissolve the cloud of anxiety that'd been looming overhead for the past five days.
He watches as she picks up her phone and expels another long breath, no doubt refreshing the NYT page again. She hasn't noticed the breakfast that's underway and he gets an idea. While she's still distracted by her phone, he slips the bowl of pancake batter back in the fridge - then, he leans across the counter and gently pulls her phone out of her hands.
"Hey," he says, her eyes full of questions, "let's take a walk. Let's leave our phones and go down by the water. Maybe stop by that new bakery you've been wanting to try?"
He sees her crack a smile and he's relieved, he knew she wouldn't be able to say no to good coffee and pastries. She gives him a quick peck before going back in the bedroom to change, wordlessly thanking him for knowing what she needed better than she did.
They'd taken to life in Seattle quicker than either had expected to and now, after just over a year in the city, it'd felt like they'd been there for much longer. Seattle still had the hustle and bustle of city life that they'd grown to love about Manhattan, but it didn't suffocate them. Weekend escapes to the mountains or morning walks by the lake were right at their fingertips and they found themselves living a much more balanced life than the one they left behind in New York.
It's a brisk but sunny morning as they make their way to the waterfront. Donna's hair is loose behind her, glistening bright red when the sun hits it. They're hand in hand, but not talking much - both needing a mindless escape more than they realized.
They're waiting for their drinks at the coffee shop when they hear a few car horns blaring outside. Seattle may be a city, but it didn't have the penchant for honking horns that New York did, so the sound isn't a usual occurrence for them anymore. Harvey looks out the window, expecting to see an accident or a near miss, but doesn't see anything. He makes eye contact with the barista who also turned to see what was happening, but they both shrug it off as a fluke.
Coffee and almond croissants in hand, they make their way out of the coffee shop and towards the waterfront. As they're crossing the street, they're met with more honking horns and, this time, a passenger leaning out the window yelling 'HE WOOOOOON! HE WOOOOON!' to the people on the sidewalk as the car moves slowly through the intersection.
Donna whips around to face Harvey with such force she almost knocks him over. The hope in her eyes confirms for him that her mind immediately went to where his did.
"Do you think?" she starts to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.
He immediately regrets deciding to leave their phones at home, and he starts searching for anything to confirm what he hoped to be true. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he sees the all too familiar blue and red map from CNN on a TV at a newsstand across the street. Wordlessly, he grabs Donna's hand and drags her closer. Just as she turns around, the projection flashes big on the screen. Wolf Blitzer calling the state of Pennsylvania, and the entire race, for Joe Biden.
"Oh my god," he hears her whisper. She repeats it again, a little louder. Over and over again until she's practically screaming.
He turns to face her and she's sporting his favorite smile - open mouthed and so wide her eyes are slightly closed. He can't help but smile back at her, even wider as he sees tears brimming in the corner of her eyes and it's almost like he's watching the weight of the last four years evaporate from her shoulders.
"We did it!" she squeals, her voice as high-pitched as he's ever heard it and, before he knows it, her arms are around his neck and she's kissing him with little regard for the pedestrians around them.
He's caught up in her excitement and he can't help it - he's wrapping his arms tighter around her waist, lifting her off the ground, and spinning her around.
"I love you," she says once they part and she's safely on the ground.
"I love you too," he replies, kissing her forehead and pulling her in for a hug.
"I also love Joe Biden," he hears her murmur against his chest and he laughs out loud, not even attempting to think of a sarcastic rebuttal.
They decide to make the most of the great weather and the celebration that's unfolding on the streets around them - taking in all the jubilation that's overtaken the normally sleepy Saturday morning streets. The few car horns that alerted them to the news are now incessant, as are the cheers and hollers of passengers and passersby, with the occasional 'Fuck Trump!' thrown in for good measure.
They find themselves at a park right on the water where people have gathered to celebrate. There's music coming from somewhere and people are dancing, Harvey even sees a few champagne corks fly through the air. It's just after 8:30 in the morning, but people are celebrating big.
There's an entire block party unfolding around them, but he can't help but look at Donna. She's in the moment, swaying slightly from side to side to whatever song is playing, and snapping the occasional picture of the crowd. He even indulges her in a few selfies because he knows what she's thinking - this is a moment they'll want to remember.
Just then, he hears the opening notes of a song that any Bostonian would recognize from a mile away. He takes her hand and guides her closer to the crowd of people. She has a puzzled look on her face, but she doesn't challenge him. It's usually her having to convince him to dance to 'Sweet Caroline.'
He swings her around in his arms as the crowd around them sing the lyrics and he can't help but think how much he loves dancing with her. Moreso, how much he loves seeing her like this - full of joy. Donna's a generally happy person, but she's something else entirely when she's so happy she's filled with joy. He thinks back to a night a lifetime ago, dancing around his office with glasses of champagne after getting rid of Daniel Hardman, to Mike and Rachel's wedding when, despite all the changes that were about to take place, he now knows she found joy through the simple pleasure of being in his arms. And most recently at their own impromptu wedding when he made her laugh so hard she snorted as he spun her around the dance floor. He wishes he could bottle up this energy because it didn't happen all that often, and joyful Donna was his very favorite Donna.
"What do you say we get out of here," he leans in to whisper as the song comes to a close.
"The day is still young, Mr. Specter, what do you propose?"
"You missed it this morning because you were too caught up in your phone, but I was going to make you your favorite pancakes - the batter is in the fridge."
"Can we stop and get champagne on the way home?" she asks.
"I'm not sure we're going to find a liquor store open at 9am on a Saturday," he jokes, "besides, I have a bottle from 2016 and I think it's time we pop the cork."
"You saved the bottle from election night?" she asks, and he can tell she's genuinely surprised.
"Well, I figured he'd be gone at some point," he shrugs, and watches her smile grow wider, "so what do you say we go home, have some pancakes, and toast to Madam Vice President?"
Thanks for reading! As always, leave a review if ya liked it :)