A/N: Canonically, I don't really see Darvey with kids after the show ended, but I do think they'd be amazing parents and it's a lot of fun to explore in fics, so any idea that pops into my head, I'll post here. I'm not sure how to rate this yet, but I don't think it'll include much smut, if at all.

Diaper Duty

A sharp cry yanks Donna from her sleep. She mutters a curse word under her breath and moans loudly in protest, a sound that melts into a soft sigh. "Harvey," she mutters, elbowing his ribs with a wince-inducing blow.

Harvey squirms in pain, twisting away from the source, and nestles his head farther into the pillow, desperately trying to reclaim his dreams. Donna flips onto her back, her narrowed eyes boring into her husband's retreating form.

"Your turn," she states. A muffled groan, swallowed by the pillow, is her only reply. "C'mon, Harvey, please get up!"

He exhales, a puff of air that ruffles his hair, and slowly turns his head, as if the movement itself is a struggle. One eye cracks open a sliver, barely enough to register her presence. "Can't you just… go? You're already awake," he mumbles, voice thick with sleep.

With a slight roll of her eyes, Donna watches as Harvey buries his face back into the pillow. "This," she says, a teasing lilt in her voice, "is not how taking turns works, sleepyhead." She lightly tickles his side with her fingers to goad him into action, and a defeated sigh escapes his lips.

"Fine," he surrenders, rolling out of bed. "I'm going."

The wooden floor creaks beneath Harvey's bare feet as he hurries towards the nursery. The piercing cries grow louder with each step, echoing in his ears and pounding against his skull. Yet despite the exhaustion he feels, a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. Because it's the sweetest sound he ever heard, and he wouldn't trade it for the world.

Entering their daughter's bedroom, Harvey's gaze darts to the crib. She isn't crying; she is wailing, her face scrunched up in a mask of pure misery. The primal plea instantly banishes any lingering sleep, and a wave of concern slams into him as he sees her tiny body shaking with each desperate sob.

"Hey there, sweetheart, what's the matter?" Scooping her up in his arms, he is met with a pungent odor that leaves no doubt about the source of her distress. His face falls for a beat, then a wry smile spreads across it. "Had a big poo, didn't we?"

Big, brown eyes, brimming with tears, stare up at him. The color of her face, red from crying, matches the crown of soft down that already graces her tiny head. She is the most beautiful thing ever created, and she would turn out like her mother, he is sure of that.

"Why do you always do that when it's Daddy's turn," he says with deep chuckle, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek before laying her down on the changing pad. "Alright, Miss Fussypants. Now, be a good sport and hold the fire, okay? I can't go back to your mommy with a complete biohazard situation on my body."

A few weeks ago, this task seemed like a battlefield. Now, diaper duty is… almost enjoyable? It has even become a strange source of pride for him, where he tackles the situation with the efficiency of a pit crew changing tires.

Most days, he finds himself in a silent race against the clock. He whisks away the dirty diaper for a new one, mentally debating a change of the baby's clothes, while a stopwatch is ticking in his mind, urging him on. Of course, those middle-of-the-night changes are a different story entirely, because under the dim glow of the nursery light, speed takes a backseat to patience.

Stacks of baby books, devoured with an intensity that rivaled his most important legal battles – much to Donna's amusement and slight annoyance – have drilled one fact into Harvey's head: positive reinforcement for his daughter's… well, output… is key to her future self-esteem. It's basically the gospel of positive poop-etiquette.

So, instead of the grimace he knows is probably lurking beneath his surface, Harvey plasters an appreciative smirk on his face at the sight before him. "Wow," he gives a low whistle, holding up the diaper. "That's a doozy. A real, Specter-sized blowout. Looks like you might have finally beaten Daddy's record."

He wraps the smelly diaper together and throws it away, then dips a soft washcloth in warm water, gently cleaning his daughter's bum, careful to remove any leftover mess. Her tears have dried up, replaced by a curious gaze, and a quiet gurgle escapes her lips as she reaches out a tiny hand, her fingers grasping at the air.

A warmth spreads through Harvey's chest. "Don't need help there, kiddo. Thank you," he smiles, his voice soft and full of affection. "But listen…" He leans down, speaking in a soothing whisper, "Mommy and Daddy are reaaally tired. Like superhero-fight-all-night tired. So, if you could maybe hold off on any more crying for a little while... Maybe until sunrise? That would be amazing."

Harvey raises his eyebrows, glancing at the baby. Her innocent gaze, obviously clueless to his request, makes him laugh. He finishes changing the diaper, then scoops her back up and holds her close to his chest. Rocking her gently in his arms, he sees her eyelids fluttering down. A lump forms in his throat as he stares at her peaceful expression.

"Daddy loves you so much," he murmurs as he tenderly kisses the top of her head and lets out a deep sigh, emotions deep inside of him making his eyes water. He carries her slowly to the crib and tucks her in safely. "Now go back to sleep and don't forget about our deal." Caressing her cheek with his thumb, he cracks a tired smile. "Sweet dreams, lovebug."

After washing his hands in the bathroom, he returns to the master bedroom. His eyes land on his wife, and he smirks at the sight of her sprawled across the king-sized bed like a starfish, clutching both pillows to her chest.

"Hey," he says as he rejoins her in bed, reaching out to brush a stray hair from her cheek.

A muffled groan finds its way out from between Donna's parted lips as she burrows deeper into the mountain of pillows. Harvey leans over her and pulls up the sheets that cover only half of her body, then snuggles against her.

"You don't have to hold on to the pillow anymore. I'm back," he chortles.

Donna slowly opens her eyes and looks at him, a smile creeping up her face. "Is she asleep?"

"Out like a light," he replies. "We had a major poop situation, but I handled it."

Her smile widens, and she lets go of the pillow with a playful swat at his arm. "You're my hero," she sighs, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

"I also made a deal with her."

"What kind of deal?" she murmurs against his skin.

"She promised me to stay asleep until sunrise."

"Oh, the luxury," Donna giggles, followed by a soft moan.

Harvey plants little butterfly kisses across her cheek and down to her neck, where his lips linger a few moments in a longer kiss on her earlobe before slowly moving to her temple. She shivers at the sensations running through her body, goosebumps erupting on her skin. As she strokes her hand down the length of his bare thigh, Harvey drapes his leg over hers, instinctively pressing closer to her warmth.

"Now that's what I call a reward for a job well done... Cuddles with my wife." His forehead rests against Donna's as he stares deeply into her eyes. The simple act of being close to her brings a sense of peace and contentment. Makes him smile at the unwavering effect she has on him. "I love you," he says in a hushed voice. "Thank you for making me this beautiful gift."

Donna brushes the tip of her fingers across his cheek and smiles. "I love you too," she murmurs, leaning in to give him a tender kiss, then adds in a playful tone, "We made that together."

"Yeah, how exactly did we do that? Care to remind me?" he teases.

Harvey's hand reaches under her sleeping shirt to her back, his fingertips dancing over her skin. His touch is light, a gentle exploration that speaks more of tenderness than passion. His other hand moves to her head, his fingers toying with strands of her hair.

While Donna has accepted the physical changes about her body after giving birth, a light uncertainty still plays whenever she thinks about being intimate with him. Harvey can sense it, can sense her… Is it fear? He isn't sure, but what he knows for certain is the anxiety surrounding sex radiating from her.

They haven't spoken about it, but he notices it in the subtle tensing of her body when he touches her, the way her movements become a little more deliberate than carefree when they make out. His hand, resting on her back, feels the shift. He doesn't move it, doesn't try to bridge the physical gap. Instead, he squeezes her gently.

"You're as gorgeous as ever," Harvey whispers, feathering his lips across hers. "Even more with that proud mommy glow all over you." He smiles, tracing a finger along her jaw. "But there's no need to rush anything."

"I'm sorry, Harvey," she sighs. "I just feel—"

"Hey, it's okay," he reassures her. "All the sex we had in the late stages of your pregnancy makes up for the drought we're going through now." He pauses briefly, watching her expression as he runs his finger through the valley of her breasts. "Besides, I have two perfectly capable hands to entertain myself."

"You're an idiot," she snort-laughs, pecking his lips. Then her voice softens as she continues, "And our daughter is so lucky to have you as her dad."

He sighs contentedly. "She's perfect, Donna," he coos. "Even if she stinks and cries, and vomits all over me… She's goddamn perfect!"

"I know," Donna says in awe, smiling at him. "But we'll see how good she is at holding up a deal."

Harvey chuckles, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispers, "Yeah, let's get some sleep while we still can." He knows all too well the unpredictability of newborns, but for now, he allows himself a moment of hope for a peaceful night. As Donna turns around in his arms, his lips mark her shoulder before pulling away. "Sweet dreams, beautiful," he breathes.

"Sweet dreams, Daddy," she rasps, and Harvey can hear the soft smile in her voice.