This is the last light chapter for a while, so enjoy it while it lasts! The angst arrives in the next chapter
One of the scenes is dedicated to one of the sweetest, kindest people in this fandom. She'll recognize herself, I hope she loves this chapter.
Chapter Text
Sunlight streamed through Max's bedroom as the little girl opened her eyes. It was Sunday. Her favorite day. Because Sundays meant it was just her and Harvey. Everyone else was still asleep on Sunday mornings, so she always had her special one-on-one time with him.
She grabbed her stuffed animal and jumped out of bed, rushing to the kitchen only to find it empty. Strange. She peeked outside, but he was nowhere in sight. She checked the living room, then the gym, but still no Harvey.
Max frowned, her mood no longer as bright as when she'd woken up. There was only one place left to check—his bedroom.
She climbed the stairs to the second floor and gently pushed open his door. A mound was buried under the covers.
Bingo.
Max grabbed the edge of the bed and pulled herself up with a little effort, the plush blankets making her climb slightly more difficult. She managed to get on top, proud of her achievement, and settled right next to the sleeping man. With childlike delicacy, she placed her small hand on his shoulder and gave him a gentle shake.
"Harvey? Wake up, it's breakfast time," she whispered seriously, as if it were the most important thing in the world and he was about to break a fundamental rule of the universe.
Harvey, deeply lost in sleep, let out a low grunt but didn't move, his eyelids stubbornly shut. But beneath the blankets, a movement caught Max's attention. She tilted her head curiously, following the source of the motion, and her eyes lit up when she spotted a familiar shade of red hair.
Donna blinked awake, her eyes still hazy with sleep, and found herself staring into the beaming face of her daughter.
"Hi, Mom," Max said casually, completely at ease with the unusual scene, as if seeing her mother in bed with Harvey was the most natural thing in the world.
Donna blinked, a little confused. She lifted her head, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Max? What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice a mix of surprise and disbelief, pulling the blanket up to cover herself.
Max, unfazed, tilted her head to the side and replied with undeniable logic, "It's Sunday. Harvey makes breakfast on Sundays."
Donna didn't even have time to react before a muffled voice rumbled from beneath the covers.
"What's going on?" Harvey murmured, his voice thick with sleep.
A warmth spread through Donna's skin as Harvey shifted. Sometime during the night, they had changed positions without realizing it. He was lying on his back, and she had draped herself over him, using his shoulder as a pillow. She lifted herself slightly, becoming more aware of how entangled they were.
But before she could move further, Max suddenly squealed with excitement.
"Harvey! You're awake! It's Sunday, Harvey!"
His eyes cracked open, landing on Max with an expression wavering between amusement and confusion. He rubbed his face, trying to gather his bearings.
"How are you up so early, pumpkin?" he asked groggily.
Max shrugged, her mischievous smile unwavering. "It's not that early, and I'm hungry." She crossed her arms, as if that fact alone should be obvious to everyone.
Harvey lazily reached out toward the nightstand, fingers fumbling until he found his watch. He squinted at the screen, then checked it again, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
8:30
He froze for a moment, still groggy from sleep. He hadn't slept this long in… well, forever. Normally, his internal clock had him up at six sharp, whether it was a workday or not. But today, he had slept deeply. Donna, curled against him all night, her head resting on his shoulder, had probably helped. It was strange, but for the first time in what felt like forever, his body had allowed itself to relax.
A small, impatient voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Harvey!"
Donna, lying beside him, turned her head toward her daughter. Her soft, reassuring voice contrasted with the little girl's boundless energy.
"Max, be nice, he just woke up."
She sat cross-legged on the bed, pouting adorably, obeyed. Harvey, still lying down, ran a hand through his hair with a yawn, trying to shake off the last traces of sleep. Then, his eyes settled on Max, who was staring at him with an almost comically intense determination.
An amused smile tugged at his lips. "Alright, what do you want to eat?" he asked, his voice still a little rough from sleep. Absentmindedly, but with unmistakable tenderness, he played with a strand of Donna's hair, twisting it gently between his fingers.
"Pancakes!" Max exclaimed with enthusiasm, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
"Max, what do we say?" Donna prompted, a small smile on her lips.
Harvey noticed the tension in her voice. She was trying to appear relaxed, but he could tell from her eyes that the situation made her a little uneasy. And yet, Max seemed perfectly at ease. No questions about why her mother was here, no sign of confusion. Maybe she was too young to find anything unusual about it. Or maybe her stomach was simply too impatient to care.
"Please, Harvey," Max added with an angelic smile.
Harvey shook his head with a smirk, amused by her impatience. "Alright, alright, I'm coming. Go wait outside, I'll be there in a minute."
"But—" she started before being cut off.
"How high can you count?" he asked, feigning seriousness.
Max shrugged, a hint of defiance in her posture. "Not that it matters for pancakes, but… 100."
Harvey's smile turned mischievous. "Go wait outside and count to 100. I'll be there before you finish."
She narrowed her eyes at him, suspicious. "I count fast."
Harvey chuckled. "And I get dressed even faster."
After a second of hesitation, the little girl hopped off the bed and walked toward the door, still skeptical but obedient. As she stepped into the hallway, they heard her small voice begin counting, "One, two, three…"
When silence settled over the room, he turned to Donna, mischief dancing in his eyes. He leaned in and kissed her deeply.
.
Donna responded, surprised but delighted, before pulling back slightly. "Good morning," she murmured, a smile still lingering on her lips.
"Good morning."
"You know, you don't have to—"
He gently cut her off. "I know. But it's Sunday."
A soft smile spread across Donna's face as Max's voice continued in the hallway. "Twenty-seven… twenty-eight…"
"So?" she asked, her tone curious.
"So on Sundays, I make breakfast. It's our thing."
Donna studied him, her brows slightly furrowed, as if she were trying to understand the weight of that statement.
"Since when?" she asked after a moment, looking almost incredulous.
He shrugged nonchalantly. "Since the first Sunday I spent here, when she came looking for me in the gym because she was hungry."
He watched her process his words, her gaze lingering on him a little too long, like she were analyzing something he couldn't quite decipher. But before she could respond, he felt the weight of the seconds slipping away. Max was already nearing fifty in her countdown, and he knew she wouldn't stay patient for much longer.
"Is this okay?" he asked, afraid of crossing an invisible boundary, of taking a place he wasn't supposed to have.
"That you make breakfast?" she replied with a note of amusement, trying to lighten the mood.
Harvey let out a soft chuckle and leaned toward her slightly, his smile turning playful. "I mean leaving you here because your legs can't support you."
She rolled her eyes. "My legs work just fine, you give yourself way too much credit."
He laughed again, shaking his head. "Oh, please, you almost called me da—"
He didn't get the chance to finish. Donna's hand shot up, covering his mouth. Her eyes were wide, and he could practically feel the warmth creeping up her cheeks.
"Did you really hear that?" she blurted out a little too quickly.
Harvey nodded slowly, lowering her hand. "Loud and clear. You really need to work through your da—"
"Stop right there and go make my daughter some pancakes," she cut him off, her voice trying for authority but lacking any real bite.
Teasing her was far too easy, but he knew he'd won this round. Stretching as he got up, he grabbed a pair of sweatpants from the floor and a t-shirt draped over a chair.
As he opened the door to leave, Max's voice rang through the hallway.
"Seventy-seven… seventy-eight… eighty… eighty-one…"
Harvey leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "You skipped one."
Max spun around instantly, eyes sparkling with defiance. "No, I didn't."
"What about seventy-nine?"
"I did it on purpose," she said with absolute confidence.
Harvey shook his head. "Always got an answer for everything… just like your mom."
.
Donna remained still for a moment, staring at the spot where Harvey had been lying just minutes ago. His warmth still lingered on the sheets, and without thinking, she let her hand drift over the fabric, as if she could capture a little more of the fleeting moment.
Last night had been full of surprises.
The sex, of course, had been amazing—but she hadn't expected that removing a simple t-shirt would lead to so many confessions. She knew military men rarely, if ever, talked about their deployment experiences, and the fact that Harvey had let her into that part of his life spoke volumes about their attachment to each other. And even though they had agreed this was casual, that didn't mean they couldn't care about each other… right?
But then, Max had burst in this morning, waking them both, and Donna had tried to act normal but the scene had unsettled her in ways she wasn't ready to admit. She knew Max adored Harvey, she talked about him constantly. At home, at school… even her teacher had eventually asked who this mysterious person was. And every time, Donna felt a small pang in her chest. She tried to explain to her daughter that she shouldn't get attached, that Harvey wasn't a constant in their lives.
But how could she ask a child not to get attached when she, herself, was struggling to follow that same advice?
The most unsettling part, though, wasn't Max. It was Harvey.
He was comfortable with her. Far more than she would have thought possible. A few weeks ago, he would have kept his distance, made some excuse about not having the patience or not knowing what to do. But this morning, he had let Max crawl into his bed, teased her, promised her pancakes… as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
As if he was already part of their everyday life.
But he wasn't. Not really.
Harvey would leave eventually. And Donna refused to watch her daughter's heart break when that time came.
Still, she couldn't help but be curious about their so-called Sunday ritual. She had no idea it was a thing between them, she had simply assumed Max wasn't hungry when she woke up.
After quickly slipping on the clothes she had worn the night before, she made her way on the first floor quietly, making sure no one caught her. If anyone saw her, there would be questions, and then it would all spiral out of control.
Once back in her own room, she swapped her wrinkled outfit for a fresh set of pajamas, splashed some water on her face to wash away the last traces of the night, and then finally made it to the kitchen.
The comforting scent of coffee and sugar was already floating through the air. Moving cautiously, Donna reached the entrance to the kitchen and froze at the sight before her.
Max was sitting on the counter, flour dusting her hair, a whisk in her small hands as she stirred the batter under Harvey's watchful eye. He stood beside her, one arm resting casually behind her back to make sure she didn't fall.
Donna felt like an outsider watching them in their own little world.
She had sworn not to let Harvey become more than a lover, not to open a door she wouldn't be able to close. But how could she ignore what she was seeing?
This wasn't just Harvey and Max sharing breakfast. This was a routine. A habit they had built. Just the two of them. And the most painful part was how effortless it looked.
Max laughed, carefree and full of joy, as if having a man in their kitchen on a Sunday morning had always been a given. As if Harvey had always been there. But he hadn't.
Peter had died before he ever had the chance to meet her, and Donna had promised herself she would be strong enough for two. That she would never try to fill that void.
And yet… Here was Harvey.
Harvey, who had kept Max at arm's length in the beginning, who had done everything he could to avoid getting involved.
Harvey, who now stood there, a steady hand on her back to keep her from slipping, laughing with her as if nothing else in the world mattered but this exact moment.
He wasn't trying to fill the void. He was just there. And maybe that's what terrified her the most.
Because at that moment, Donna realized just how much she had been lying to herself. She could no longer pretend that this didn't matter. She could no longer pretend that what she felt for him was just fleeting attraction, a physical connection without consequences. Because watching Harvey with Max made her want everything she had forbidden herself to hope for.
It was one of her favorite moments. Being able to relax in her bath, surrounded by the gentle scents she loved so much. It was her moment, just for herself. No work, no appointments to keep, no mask to wear. Just her and her mind, which hadn't been her best ally these past few days.
She was really trying to push away any feelings for Harvey, but it was hard when the man was so damn perfect. Not that he didn't have flaws. But they simply faded into the background. He was everything she had never known in a man.
So different from what she had been used to for years. So different from Peter.
His dark eyes, where Peter's were a brilliant blue. His closed-off expression, where Peter's was always welcoming. His rare smile, where Peter smiled as if he owned the world. His cold and distant attitude, where Peter reached out to every soul in distress.
Peter was radiant. He drew people to him like a magnet. In the middle of a crowd, all eyes were on him. Harvey was the opposite. He was as discreet as possible, cold at first glance. He had a magnetism of his own, but it was completely different from Peter's. His charisma created distance, inspiring admiration without ever seeking attention. Harvey was untouchable, unapproachable, while Peter welcomed the world with open arms.
Harvey had the coldness of the moon, and Peter the warmth of the sun. It made sense that she had fallen in love with Peter. But now, her heart was replicating those feelings for a man who was his opposite. Two worlds that would never collide. A whole galaxy between them. And she had never dreamed of an eclipse more than she did now.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice calling her name.
"In the bathroom," she replied, recognizing the voice as the door opened.
And there he was. Her moon. Who, despite everything, was still a light in the darkness.
"I see you're having a good time here," Harvey said, leaning against the wall, unaware of her thoughts.
"Could be worse," she said, playing with the moss. "And it could be better," she added with a teasing look.
"Is that an invitation?"
"I was talking about a glass of champagne, of course."
"Of course," he repeated, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. "Do you really need that much foam in your bath?" he asked, as only Donna's face was visible.
"You think there's too much?"
Harvey raised an eyebrow, letting his hand slide into the water to find her leg, and began to caress it.
"Let's just say it's frustrating to know what's underneath… without being able to see it. You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"
"You weren't supposed to be here in the first place," she smiled before blowing a handful of bubbles into his face, making him laugh softly. That laugh was rare. A quiet sound that still echoed far too infrequently.
"You don't want to play that game, Paulsen," Harvey warned in a mock-threatening tone.
Donna raised an eyebrow, accepting the challenge without hesitation. And before he could react, she stretched her leg under the water and kicked, splashing him right where it counted.
Harvey froze for a split second, as if weighing his options. Then, without warning, he lunged at her, plunging into the bathtub fully clothed in a splash of water.
"Harvey! You're gonna get water everywhere!" she exclaimed, unable to believe what he had just done.
But he couldn't care less. He was on top of her now, drenched, his t-shirt clinging to his torso, his hands instinctively finding their place against her bare skin.
Donna shook her head, half amused, half exasperated, as Harvey repositioned himself beside her in the tub, his arms wrapping around her waist under the still-warm water. Thank God the bathtub was big enough for both of them—it took up the corner of the room and was probably as large as a jacuzzi.
"You're impossible," she murmured, trying to sound reproachful, her hands resting on his soaked chest, feeling the fabric stuck to his skin. "And completely soaked."
"I'll dry off eventually… Unless you want to help me take this off?" he teased, his gaze smoldering.
Donna rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. She let her fingers slide down the wet fabric beneath the water before grabbing it and slowly pulling it upward. Harvey sat up slightly to help, and she lifted the damp shirt over his head, letting it fall onto the edge of the tub.
She barely had time to turn back before realizing he had moved closer. He was watching her with that intensity that made her forget everything. The rules, the limits she had set for herself. He brushed his nose against hers before pressing a slow kiss to her lips.
She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, her hands gliding along his still-damp shoulders. But before the kiss could deepen, a noise from the hallway made them both freeze.
"Donna?! Are you there?"
Louis. Shit.
Her eyes widened, immediately locking onto Harvey's panicked gaze.
"He can't see me in here," he whispered, as if that would somehow stop Louis from coming in.
"You think I don't know that?!" she hissed back, already scrambling for a solution. "You could jump out the window," she suggested, not sounding convinced even to herself.
He shot her a murderous look. "Have you seen the height of your goddamn mansion?! You want me to break a knee?!"
"So what do we do?"
"You're naked. He wouldn't just barge in," Harvey reasoned, glancing toward the door.
She narrowed her eyes. "We're talking about Louis."
As if to prove her point, footsteps drew closer, and Louis's impatient voice rang out again. "Donna?!"
"Go under the water! The foam will cover you!" she blurted in panic.
Harvey stared at her incredulously. "You're kidding me."
"Go! He's coming!" She was already pushing the moss around, trying to obscure any trace of him.
Harvey swore under his breath, but seeing no other option, took a deep breath and disappeared beneath the water.
Donna frantically swept more bubbles over him, trying to conceal whatever might still be visible. She barely had time to grab Harvey's soaked t-shirt floating on the surface and shove it underwater before the door swung open.
Louis walked in without hesitation, as if he had been invited, and she cursed internally.
"Oh my God, Donna! You'll never guess!" he exclaimed excitedly.
"Louis! Get the hell out!" she snapped, sliding even lower into the bathtub to make sure he couldn't see anything—even though she knew he would never look. Had he even realized she was naked ? Not sure.
"Why? What's wrong?" He frowned, glancing around the bathroom before pointing at the water splattered across the tiles. "Wait… why is there water everywhere?"
"Hello?! Bath. Naked. Closed door. Normal people knock before barging in! Forget the water and get out!"
Louis raised an eyebrow, completely unfazed. "Donna, please! I can't leave now! I have huge news!"
"There's a charity event in Florida in a few months, and they want you as the guest of honor! Oh, Donna, do you realize what this means?!" He clapped his hands like an overexcited child. "This is going to be amazing publicity for us!"
"Great!" she exclaimed a little too high-pitched, trying to mask the panic growing inside her.
Underwater, Harvey was probably suffering, and she prayed he still had enough air.
"You have no idea how huge this is!" Louis went on, clearly delighted. "And it's for a noble cause—veterans. They want to raise awareness about the struggles they face when transitioning back to civilian life and they're organizing a fundraiser..."
Donna felt her stomach twist.
Veterans. Fuck.
If the situation weren't so catastrophic, she would have laughed at the irony.
She stole a nervous glance at the water's surface, where Harvey was undoubtedly cursing her to hell and back.
"So, I was thinking," Louis continued, going as far as to sit on the edge of the bathtub, "that it would be a good idea to prepare a speech in advance, find the right tone. You know, something sincere, something that truly honors their journey—"
"Louis!" she suddenly cried, cutting him off mid-sentence, her heart pounding.
He jumped, startled, his brows knitting together. "What?"
Donna flashed him her most forced smile, trying to mask her rising panic. "Can we talk about this later?" she asked, feigning a relaxed tone.
She grabbed a handful of moss, letting them slide absentmindedly through her fingers, as if she were just a woman enjoying a peaceful bath—not someone desperately trying to prevent an imminent disaster. "I'm relaxing, and… honestly, I really don't want to talk about work right now."
The manager crossed his arms, clearly displeased with her lack of enthusiasm. "But—"
"Louis!" she repeated, this time with more urgency, her voice rising dangerously in pitch.
He exhaled loudly through his nose, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
"Okay, okay, I'm going," he grumbled, raising his hands in surrender. "But we'll talk about this later!"
He finally turned on his heel, mumbling something about never understanding actresses and their moods.
As soon as the door shut, Harvey shot up from the water with a loud gasp, shaking his head like a drenched dog. Droplets dripped down his face, his wet hair falling messily over his forehead.
"Sorry, I got rid of him as fast as I could," she said apologetically.
Harvey ran a hand down his face, exasperated. "He's lucky I'm in good shape, or I would've drowned him myself."
Donna let out a genuine laugh, unimpressed by his empty threat. He didn't look intimidating in the slightest, not with all that foam clinging to his hair. With a tender touch, she brushed the bubbles off his forehead.
"What did he want?"
"He was excited about some event in Florida where I'll be the guest of honor."
Harvey straightened slightly, his bodyguard instincts kicking in immediately. "Florida? When?"
"Not for a few months," she answered vaguely.
He narrowed his eyes, unconvinced. "Why am I just now hearing about this?"
Because you probably won't be around by then, she thought bitterly.
Swallowing that thought, she gave a more acceptable answer, flashing a casual smile. "Because he just found out."
Harvey, not considering that possibility, continued his interrogation. "But when exactly? And where in Florida? What kind of event? How long? And the ho—"
"Harvey! First of all, I didn't have time to ask all that—you were busy drowning. Secondly, I'm the actress, I don't care about those details."
"And I'm the bodyguard. Those details are the only thing I care about."
Donna rolled her eyes, fully aware he wouldn't let this go. Taking a deep breath, she stared at him for a second before suddenly shouting, "LOUIS!"
Rushed footsteps echoed down the hall and Harvey sent her an unamused glare before he was forced to disappear beneath the water once more.
The door flew open with a bang, and Louis appeared, beaming, clearly thrilled she had called him back.
"I knew you'd want to talk about it!" he exclaimed, full of enthusiasm.
Donna flashed him her best fake smile, one that barely concealed her impatience. "I have a few questions."
Louis puffed out his chest, ready to share every detail. "I'm all ears, my queen."
"When and where exactly?"
"October, in Miami."
"For how long?"
"The event is just one night, so we'll need to stay at least three days—arrival, event, departure."
Donna pretended to consider that, then blinked at him with sudden nonchalance. "Perfect. Now get out."
Louis froze for a second, then, resigned, turned to leave, muttering incoherent complaints under his breath before slamming the door behind him.
Silence finally settled again, and Harvey resurfaced with another desperate gasp, water dripping from his hair.
"Miami, October, charity event, three days, and I have no clue where I'm sleeping three months in advance—be serious, please," Donna summarized, leaning against the edge of the bathtub with a teasing smile.
Harvey stared at her for a moment before shaking his head with a quiet, amused chuckle. Slowly, he moved closer, his hands gliding beneath the water until they found her legs.
"At ease, rookie," he murmured, his smirk full of satisfaction.
He didn't wait for a response before capturing her lips in a slow, teasing kiss that deepened with every second. His fingers brushed against her warm skin under the water, sending a shiver down her spine.
They definitely weren't getting out of this bath anytime soon.