A/N: This is the beginning of some fluff after all the angst :)
"We should go with yellow," Harvey thinks out loud as they walk down the aisles of the store, searching for the perfect color for Lucy's nursery. "It's bright and friendly, and I don't wanna pigeonhole her."
"Oh, you mean the whole 'blue for boys and pink for girls' thing?" Donna chuckles. "Of course, we're not doing that, Harvey. We're not gonna put her into any boxes." She turns her head and smiles at him, gently bumping her hip against his. "I think yellow is perfect. She'll love it."
Harvey smiles back at her and leans in. "This is exciting," he murmurs against her hair. The words vibrate softly, not just from the emotion, but from the way he holds them back, as if afraid to speak them too loud, as if he were embarrassed to admit it.
Donna sighs contentedly. After the last few months, this week feels like heaven. Almost like couple therapy.
They've been setting up Lucy's room in their new condo, poring over furniture and baby equipment. Their decision to do the makeover themselves and not have a company do it means they spend a lot of time together, just talking, laughing, the usual careless banter.
It's funny how about a year ago they didn't even entertain the idea of having a child, and now their days are hanging out in baby boutiques, rummaging online stores for baby items, and discussing non-toxic paint, organic clothing, cloth diapers, and natural baby care products – what a beautiful life they're building for themselves!
After shoving the last paint bucket into the shopping cart, they nudge it towards the bedding section. Donna studies the various bedding sets way longer than Harvey deems necessary, but he loves watching her.
He loves the tiny crinkle between her brows that appears when she thinks, her quick smile when she sees an item that instantly catches her fancy. Loves how she moves around the room, sure and confident in herself, even though this is completely new territory for them both.
He loves how she bosses him around about thinking practical instead of looks, and that she doesn't settle for anything less than exactly what she envisioned. How she gives herself wholeheartedly once she decides she cares for a person, like she does now, with Lucy.
What he loves most about her, though, is how to be loved by her means something true, deep, and unconditional. How with her, he's found his future… and lost his heart.
His heart belongs entirely to her, and she has signed it with her signature. Now she lives inside him, breathes her love through his own lungs.
"Harvey?"
He blinks, pulled back from where his mind wandered. "Sorry, what were you saying?"
"Where'd you just disappear to?"
"I was lost in daydreams about tiny tiaras and tutus," he says jokingly.
"Oh, you'd look very cute in a tutu, mister," Donna teases, smirking. "I was just asking for your opinion."
"On what?"
"If you were a baby, would you rather have your room decorated with safari animals or bunnies and butterflies?"
"Baseball bats and basketballs."
"Harvey," she snorts, "Be serious."
"I am serious, Donna," he grins. There's a moment's pause, then— "Fine," he chuckles. "I like this one."
Harvey plucks a bedding set off the shelf – it seems to have everything: a quilt, fitted sheets, a crib skirt, even a wearable blanket – and slow smile spreads across his face as he unfurls the quilt.
The giraffe, crafted from a textured chevron minky fabric, stands out immediately. Its mane is a thick eyelash trim in gray, its tassel tail is made of matching yarn, and the feet are a charcoal gray corduroy.
Next to the giraffe is a baby elephant made of the same soft gray minky, with the same playful tail, and a three-dimensional ear with embroidered stitching that flops around when the quilt moves.
Behind them on a stitched brown tree branch sits a toucan, and up at the top of the quilt is a fuzzy, smiling, gray sloth hanging from another branch. But as Harvey's gaze lingers on the included wall decals, an idea forms in his mind.
"Hey, what if we get some more paint to match this jungle theme?" he smiles, a soft glow emanating from his face. "Just imagine her snuggled up under that quilt, surrounded by all her animal friends."
Donna can't help but giggle at the image. Seeing how invested Harvey is in the idea of welcoming Lucy into their home and creating a space for the baby that will make them feel safe and loved brings a warmth to her eyes that mirrors his smile.
They spent the whole day creating a jungle mural on the walls of Lucy's room until their muscles ache in places they didn't know existed.
Dressed in a shirt and yoga pants, Donna stands on a stepladder that reaches the ceiling. She dips her brush into the pot of vibrant green, her tongue peeking out in concentration as she paints a palm leaf.
"You know, Michelangelo," Harvey drawls from across the room, his voice dripping with mock seriousness, "that leaf looks suspiciously more like a wilted lettuce."
Donna shoots him a playful glare. "Coming from the man who can't even tell the difference between a giraffe and a camel," she retorts. "Pretty embarrassing for someone whose mother was an artist."
A wide grin splits her face as she dips her brush back into the paint tray. But instead of wiping off the excess, she flicks it at him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Harvey yelps, a feigned look of outrage on his face as a blob of green lands squarely on his chest.
"Maybe we should've stuck to one color," he remarks, his voice tinged with amusement. "This jungle theme feels like it's putting a real strain on our marriage."
The sunlight filtering through the window catches a glint of sweat on Harvey's biceps, the rolled-up sleeves of his old shirt revealing a hint of muscle. A few paint splatters pepper his face, making him look silly yet undeniably attractive – heat coils low in Donna's stomach at the sight.
"Do you think Lucy would mind if we borrowed her room for a few minutes?" she asks, stepping off the ladder.
"To do what?" he counters, his grin mirroring hers. "Work on our marriage?"
Harvey licks his lips unconsciously, his eyes darkening with desire, as he watches her toss the paintbrush aside and drag her shirt over her head. Then she tugs down her pants, exposing a ridiculously small pair of lace black panties.
Within seconds, she stands before him, completely naked. His heart beats in rapid time as Donna's body pulls his lecherous gaze like a magnet, her voluminous breasts bouncing softly with each step she takes, her hips swaying gracefully.
A smirk curls one side of his mouth as he says, "I don't think she'd mind."
Then, roughly, almost violently, he pulls Donna into his body as he takes what he wants from her mouth. His tongue slides through the parted welcome of her lips. His heated palms pass over the swell of her buttocks.
Donna whimpers as the sheer power of his kiss inflames her. Sliding her arms around his neck, she holds his head to hers, reveling in the deep carnal kiss. Harvey grinds his lower half against hers and she feels every inch of his hard body.
She shoves her hand into his pants and inside his briefs, releasing a satisfied moan at how hot he is, searing hot against the soft skin of her palm. The friction instantly makes Harvey mindless, as if her touch is magic, reducing him to a spellbound lump of clay.
He tilts his head back and closes his eyes while she strokes his length. "Fuck, Donna," he groans.
Donna smiles smugly at the face he makes when she retreats her hand. "You're wearing too much," she purrs.
She slides Harvey's pants down over his hips, his legs, and then off, followed by his underwear. Heat soaks her face when he springs free in all his glory, and she bites down hard on her bottom lip in response.
Harvey strips his shirt over his head, tossing it. He openly moans as she moves upward, leaving behind a chilled ribbon of moisture as she licks his loins, his stomach. She kisses his chest several times before swirling her tongue around his nipple.
Every tentative stroke of Donna's fingers, every slow pull of her hand, her teeth, blitzes his brain a little bit more. When her hands cup him tightly as her nails play with the underside of his sack, he expels a ragged hiss, white-hot darts of pleasure spearing through him.
"Enough," he hums, shoving her backwards.
As he moves, he knocks over the ladder, toppling the paint can and dumping its contents over their heads and body. They both laugh out loud. But then, slowly, that laughter dies away as they start kissing each other hungrily again, eager to be united as one.
He presses her against the wall, his hand running down the side of her waist until he hooks her leg and pushes against her, his hand caressing her bum. His lips skim her neck, placing kisses down the column before grazing her collarbone. He can't stop the loud moan that escapes him. Doesn't even try.
Harvey runs one hand up and down the outer part of Donna's thigh on the leg wrapped around his hip. His other hand grasps her hair, tilting her head back so he can kiss her more fully. He feels her fingernails grip into his shoulders and he groans again.
His lips move down to her jaw, to her throat, to that place right under her ear that he knows is so sensitive. He nips at it, murmuring, "I need to feel you," and then drives himself into her without hesitation.
Donna sighs, pressing forward into him, lifting her leg higher and allowing him more access as he thrusts into her. "More," she says, breathlessly.
Pulling her other leg up off the floor, Harvey pushes his weight against her, holding her up against the wall. "Like this?" he breathes as he sucks on her neck, his tongue flicking out to tease her skin.
"Yes," she cries out.
Her legs now fully splayed, he pumps into her vigorously with near-blind passionate hunger until her sighs come quicker, and she moans louder, sobbing out his name. Her muscles clench, culminating in an explosive shock, fireworks deep within, as she comes with a sharp cry.
Harvey feels the thrill of his own climax ripple through his body. He comes on a long shudder, his release shooting deep into her womb. Her sex throbs around him as the aftershocks of pleasure reverberate through her core.
Donna's soft moans fill the room, and he holds her in place as they echo into silence. Breathing hard, he gently lets her down, withdraws, and then presses his body back against hers.
His lips nuzzle down the soft skin of her throat with little nibbles and licks. It causes her to shiver and burn at the same time. Then he gently nibbles on her earlobes, making her gasp with pleasure.
"We should wash this paint off," she says with a soft giggle.
Harvey doesn't quite have it in him to speak.
Donna tangles her finger in his hair, tugging lightly. "You know, I just realized," she begins, "with a baby around, this… us having sex… could become a real challenge."
He raises his head and looks into her dazzled eyes. Slowly, a smirk parts his lips. "You need to learn how to be quiet, then she won't be disturbed," he teases.
She laughs. "I thought you love it when I'm—"
"Oh, you know I do, Donna," he chuckles, pecking her lips. "But I'm afraid you're right… Those screams could definitely wake a sleeping baby."
She playfully slaps his shoulder, grinning. Then she runs her hand through her hair, leaving a streak of green across her forehead. Harvey reaches out, his thumb softly brushing away the paint.
"You look like a warrior princess with that paint all over you," he murmurs, his voice warm and gentle.
As Donna stares at him in silence for a moment, she begins to smile, whispering, "Are you nervous?"
They're gonna be parents!
Harvey smiles back. "Very," he admits, his voice low, almost inaudible. "But doing it with you, I feel brave."
"Me too," she sighs, her smile softening as she leans in to give him a loving, tender kiss.
•••
As Harvey peers into the crib, Lucy's crying ceases abruptly and her blue eyes cross for a fraction of a second as she works to bring him into view. He smiles tenderly at her as he reaches into the crib to pick her up.
"It's your first night in your new home. No wonder you're a little restless," he murmurs in a soft, reassuring voice. "Are you hungry? Or just cranky?"
Harvey places the infant against his bare chest and rubs her tiny back with a slow circular motion. He sighs as she snuggles against him, her head resting in the crook of his neck as she molds her body to his in a way that only babies can do.
Although it's been months since he first held her, he still marvels at how light and soft she is. When she cries, his heart aches. When she sleeps comfortably in his arms, he feels more at peace with the world than he ever did.
It still freaks him out sometimes to know that he will be the shaper of her dreams, the molder of her future, the one who will teach her right and wrong, and scare potential boyfriends away.
He kisses the little swirl of hair on the crown of her head. "You know how much I love you, don't you?" he breathes as he sits down in the large rocking chair next to the crib and picks up her bottle of formula.
Harvey adjusts Lucy's position, so that her head rests in the crook of his arm, her face to his. Then he puts the nipple of the bottle to her lower lip and she eagerly begins to suck. As he rocks the baby, the only sounds heard are the sound of air bubbles in the bottle and the creak of the rocker.
He leans his head back and closes his eyes. A few minutes later, a slow smile wreaths itself about his relaxed features as he senses Donna standing in the doorway, watching him. He chuckles softly, keeping his eyes closed as he speaks to her.
"Like what you see?" he says quietly, turning his smile into a smug grin.
His already messy hair flops over into his eyes. He blinks and scrunches his face as it tickles him, unable to move as he's holding the baby and bottle.
Smirking, Donna tightens her silk robe around her waist and approaches him. She runs her hand through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes and off his forehead.
As she continues to move her fingertips across his scalp, the heat of her touch seeps into his tense muscles, melting away the day's stress. Harvey tilts his head further into her caress and lets out a contented sigh.
"It's getting so long," Donna murmurs, reverence in her tone, her fingers lingering at his temple.
A slow smile paints its way across his face. "Do you want me to cut it?"
"Someday," she says with a chuckle. "But for now, I kinda like it. It feels… nice."
Harvey's eyes flutter open, locking with hers. "C'mere," he rasps.
Donna leans down and brushes her mouth lightly against his. It is a tentative touch, a whisper on the wind, but it sends a jolt of electricity through her, making her entire body hum and respond to his lips.
Her breath expels on a sigh, and she gazes lovingly at him, before lowering her gaze. Staring at the baby in his arms, her heart swells with the love she carries for her husband and the family they now are.
"Hey, sweetheart," she whispers, reaching out her hand to stroke Lucy's soft cheek.
Harvey watches the interaction with a tender smile. How Lucy stops sucking the bottle for a moment and appears struck in awe by Donna's appearance.
"Look at her, Donna. She's completely mesmerized by you." He laughs softly as he sweeps his thumb across Lucy's cheek. "Aren't you, baby girl?"
The baby coos at him and spits as if answering his question. "Yeah, your mama is beautiful," he coos back, smiling.
"Harvey…" Donna's voice cracks, a sudden vulnerability taking hold. A single tear rolls down her cheek, catching him by surprise.
"Did I say something wrong?" he asks, concerned.
She quickly swipes at her cheek, a shaky breath escaping. "No," she replies, offering him a tremulous smile. "I should try to get some more sleep."
Harvey frowns, unsure of how to respond. "Y-Yeah, sure. I'll be right there. Just gonna—"
"It's okay, Harvey," Donna cuts him off, her voice surprisingly firm now. "I'm fine." She runs her fingers through his hair one last time, then turns away.
Harvey heaves a deep sigh as she vanishes around the corner, then focuses his attention back to Lucy. "She's not fine, is she?" he murmurs. "But I promise you, I'll make sure she will be."
He continues to hold Lucy for a while longer, feeding her, watching her tiny chest rise and fall, until, eventually, the baby drifts back to sleep.
Harvey puts her back in her crib, then drops a kiss to her forehead, whispering "Goodnight, Lulu," and leaves.
When he enters the bedroom, he finds Donna curled up into a ball, a small, huddled form on the vast expanse of their bed, hugging the blanket tightly like a helpless fawn. As he comes closer, he hears her staccato breathing, and his heart sinks like a rock falling to the bottom of the sea.
Wordlessly, he climbs into bed and spoons up behind her, draping his arm across Donna's waist, and burying his face in her hair. Her body slowly unfolds against him as she feels him draw her securely into his arms.
Harvey dips his head, a sigh escaping his lips as his breath feathers against the sensitive skin at the nape of her neck. He closes his eyes and whispers something unintelligible; the words vibrating warmly against her ear.
Donna arches her back instinctively, then nestles deeper into his embrace. Her defenses dissolve like snowflakes on a warm tongue, a flood of emotions pushing open the gates and letting the tears escape, making the warm liquid trace a path down the side of her face.
Attuned to her unspoken cues – the tremor that runs through her is barely perceptible – Harvey's hand finds hers. Holding it lightly at first, he then weaves his fingers through hers and hangs on hard, his thumb moving along the band of the ring he placed there in what feels like another world ago.
"Please talk to me, baby," he whispers. "You know I'm shit at guessing what's wrong with you, but I can feel something is."
He nuzzles his cheek against hers, the stubble from his beard lightly scratching her skin, before turning his head and brushing the corner of her mouth with his lips. She spins around to face him and – violently soft, painfully sweet – sighs into him as she kisses him.
He likes everything about what she's doing. The way she wraps her leg around his waist and threads her fingers through the silken strands of his hair, her tongue teasing along the seam of his lips, begging for entry. He's already hard, and he groans against her mouth.
"Donna," he gasps as he tears his lips away from hers. "Stop!" While his voice is soft, his tone is almost frustrated. He wants to keep doing this, craves it with every fiber of his being, but— "We need to talk."
Her movements still, and she pulls back a fraction, searching Harvey's eyes. The tenderness she finds there, the deep love and devotion, the raw vulnerability, makes a pang of guilt twist in her stomach.
Maybe Katrina is right. Maybe she is hiding some hard truths from him to protect him, prioritizing his grief while neglecting her own. But is she truly protecting him by burying the truth? Or is she just protecting herself, afraid of shattering the fragile peace they've built?
A deep breath hitches in her throat. It's not fair to him, and especially not fair to herself. She craves the same comfort she offers, the same vulnerability she witnesses. She shouldn't be afraid to tell him how she really feels, how much all of this is affecting her.
Harvey's gaze holds hers with an intensity that sends shivers down her spine as he says, "These last few months have been so much about me and my grief," his voice laced with a hint of regret, "I never really asked you how you feel."
Donna lets out a surprised gasp and glares at him, feeling so exposed and bare to him, even though she has said nothing yet. How did he know instantly?
"I guess it's because you're always so strong, so… you," he continues, his hand tracing slow circles on her back, "I didn't think…" His words trail off and then he sighs. "I'm sorry, Donna." He lowers his eyes, a weight settling on his shoulders.
"Sorry for assuming you're better at handling all this than I am. Even if it was subconscious, it wasn't fair. You deserve better." Now he looks back into eyes. "You deserve to feel all the emotions, the good, the bad, the ugly. And you deserve to have someone by your side who listens, who holds you up when you need it."
He sweeps his thumb over her cheek, erasing the moisture gathered below her eye. "I should be that person. I'm your husband. It's my fucking job to take care of you."
"Harvey, stop," she says, her voice thick with emotion.
"Just tell me what's wrong, Donna!"
She sucks in a sharp breath and her eyes trail off into the distance, fixating on a spot behind him.
"Please," he begs.
"It's just…" Her fingers toy with the light smattering of chest hair that covers his pecs, and she studies the rise and fall of his breathing. "Sometimes I feel like I'm being suffocated by guilt… like each breath is laced with a poison that's consuming my lungs, my very soul."
Her voice breaks at the end, the sharp edge of a sob threatening to break through. She closes her eyes for a fleeting moment, taking a shuddering breath. When she meets his gaze, Harvey can see the depth of hurt in her heart reflected in her eyes.
His own throat tightens, a lump forming as he fights back the tears that well up in his eyes. "Are you talking about Lucy?" he murmurs.
"How can I love someone so much when the very foundation of that love is built on such a terrible loss?" she chokes out, tears streaming down her face unchecked. "How can she be the center of my universe – my sun, moon, and all of my stars – when becoming her mother meant losing a part of my heart forever?"
Harvey smiles, and there is so much sorrow in that smile Donna wants to take back every word she just said. Wants to take away the pain in his eyes.
"Donna," he croaks, his voice a broken whisper. His own tears feel scalding hot on his skin, and he wipes his cheek, before he continues, "Loving her so fiercely when Louis… It doesn't somehow diminish the love you had for him."
More tears fall from Donna's eyes when he cups both hands around her face. She leans forward, pressing her forehead against his chest. Harvey wraps his arms around her, resting his chin on her head, and sighs.
"It hurts," she sobs.
"I know," he sniffs, the tears still flowing.
There are nights when Donna can't sleep, because the grief and guilt are all-consuming. She knows she has to process these feelings, can't let them dictate her life, not with Lucy needing her more than ever. Too often, the darkness seems to win, leaving her exhausted and yearning for a peace that seems just out of reach.
"Let's go see that counselor," Harvey whispers, dropping a row of kisses on her hair, feeling its softness with his lips. "I can't bear to see you in so much pain, and if talking to someone about your grief… an expert… will help you… If you think it'll help us get better, then I'll do it. I'll be there. By your side."
"Harvey, do you really mean that?" she murmurs, pulling back to look at him.
"I'd do anything for you, Donna. You know that. Even if it means baring my soul to some stranger. I just want us to be okay," he says with a sigh. "We owe it to Lucy."
Donna takes his face in her hands and kisses the planes where the tears streak down from his eyes. When he shuts his eyes, she kisses them too, then his forehead, and finally his mouth.
She slowly crawls on top of him, straddling his hips, his hands clasping her waist. Her hair, undone, forms a curtain around his face as he reaches out and pulls her to him, his lips brushing over hers in a gentle kiss.
"I love you," he breathes.
Donna's hands creep up around his shoulders, locking behind his neck, and she nestles her face against his throat. Her sigh is deep as Harvey circles his arms around her, drawing her against the long length of his body.
She opens her lips to press a damp kiss against his skin, experiencing a warm, enveloping calm.
