This is a future-fic. A 'what if.' A 'why not?' I think it will only be 3 parts, maybe 4. This is part one.

She makes a change the rocks everything they know. She only wanted to be happy. Happiness shouldn't be a myth.

Donna looks across the table at a surprisingly pregnant Rachel. She's drinking for two tonight, unexpectedly. They had ordered drinks for the table while waiting for Rachel and Louis to arrive before the news broke that the woman couldn't drink after all. She, on the other hand, has just entered into a world where she can actually drink so she has no qualms in drinking both her own glass and her friend's glass.

She had asked all of her friends to get together so she could tell them the big news. She was flying to Los Angeles in the morning for an audition. It might not be a major role on primetime television or a minor role in a movie, but it's a job that would definitely pay the bills.

Ever since Mike's arrest, everyone's lives have changed drastically. Rachel and Mike rushed their wedding so she wouldn't be forced to testify against him in court and she is pretty sure one of those conjugal visits is what knocked Rachel up. Mike's served half of his sentence already and he's up for parole by year's end. Louis has been in an annoyingly good mood, not that she's worked for him for a few years now. Not since Christopher was born. The bar even revoked Harvey's right to practice law in New York and he's ended up somewhere in the world of sports. He doesn't make half as much as he did at the law firm.

But, as Rachel rambles on about her news and how she's about to embark on this incredibly terrifying journey on her own, Donna just can't bring herself to tell her friends the good news. Louis is running late anyway so she certainly couldn't break the ice with that. She downs her glass of wine and begins nursing the other glass in hopes that further into the dinner she will get a viable opportunity.

As Louis seems to appear out of nowhere, pressing a chaste kiss against both her own and Rachel's cheeks, she looks over at Harvey. She silently pleads with him to play nice. The two men haven't been in the same room for almost two months now and that ended in a rather aggressive brotherly bickering. Harvey is too distracted playing with Christopher, just over two years old now.

Christopher is sitting on Harvey's lap and throwing punches into her old boss's open palm. The harder hits seem to result in equally as hard high fives and the softer ones consist of Harvey catching the tiny fist before they both giggle quietly. Harvey's really good with the kid, just like she had always believed he would be.

"Donna. Rachel. Harvey. Sorry I'm late," Louis says as he scoots his chair closer to the table and drapes the napkin over his lap, demanding her attention to return to the late arrival. "I got held up at the office."

"Oh yeah?" Harvey replies teasingly from her right, "I thought you were going to bring that secret girlfriend of yours so we could all finally believe she exists."

She immediately shoots a glare at Harvey who rolls his eyes and returns to bonding with Christopher. She looks back to Louis and reaches for his hand, squeezing his fingers with her own. She says, "We're just glad you made it."

Between Louis' issues with his secret girlfriend and Rachel's fears about her solo pregnancy, she doesn't get a chance to tell her friends her big news.

"I can do this by myself, you know," he mutters. She looks over at Christopher who is fast asleep in Harvey's arms and bites her bottom lip to conceal her pout. She wants to reach out and touch the child but she doesn't, she's trying to respect the agreement. "It's not like this is our first night alone together."

"It's your first weekend," she reminds him.

He rolls his eyes for the umpteenth time that night but remains relatively unaffected by her mindset. They are walking side by side as they make their way to his apartment; he doesn't live too far from the restaurant. He had down sized to a two bedroom sometime after Christopher came along and now lives much closer to her. They aren't too far now.

"A three day weekend, too," he teases, "Are we going to have company by morning time?"

"No," she muses. Donna knows this would be the perfect time to tell him that she's flying thousands of miles away in the morning for a job opportunity, but she can't bring herself to say anything in reference to it. Instead, she tightens her grasp on Christopher's duffle bag as their steps echo in synchronicity. "I'll stay away. I think you deserve it after last time."

"You mean when he got sick from that jerk at daycare and kept telling me he wanted to go home?" Harvey clarifies, "Yeah, that was a real treat."

"You're his favorite person in the world," she replies, "You know that."

"I'm maybe his second favorite person, if I'm lucky," he says, a playful huff spurting out between his lips. They reach his apartment building and their steps slow. He gives her his signature smirk, something she doesn't see any more unless it's directed at her or Christopher these days. "Let me guess, you're coming up?"

"I just want to tuck him in," she replies.

Her feigned innocence is promptly ignored by him as he mumbles a yeah yeah and holds open the door for her to enter before him. The door closes gently behind them, a rule established from Harvey's landlord because the door once stayed open for 2 days straight, and they freely climbs the two flights of stairs to the third floor. Harvey unlocks the front door and twists the handle, pushing the door open to reveal a much homier looking place than the condo he once lived in.

Donna's been here too many times to count. Their co-parenting is extremely amicable considering the amount of times they have disagreed, but they often spend evenings together just so he can get ample time with his son and so Christopher can catch a small glimpse of a life that is considered societal normal. They had decided to do this as friends; it is always the better idea to prioritize their friendship just below their co-parenting.

She follows Harvey into Christopher's bedroom and sets his bag of necessities, including the things he refuses to be without, at the end of his bed before she pulls back the blankets. She steps out of the way so that Harvey can lean over and lay Christopher into a prime sleeping position. She sits on the side of the low bed and peels his shoes off to place on the floor. She promptly stands and Harvey pulls the blanket up to Christopher's chin. Christopher moves slightly into a more comfortable position as she tucks the blanket in around him and proceeds to kiss his forehead.

She watches him for just a few more moments before she finds it in herself to move away and let him sleep. It's harder for her to part with him than she ever could have imagined, but he made her feel more fulfilled with her life. Christopher was an idea that she had given up on long ago, but when Mike went to prison and Harvey was disbarred everything about the life she had known had changed drastically. The love she wanted was never going to come for her and she couldn't keep waiting on the man she'd always secretly hoped would love her back to actually do so. Instead, she had decided to take action and do something for herself. Harvey's life was upside down until the day she'd told him and some spark of life was rediscovered within him at the idea of having a child.

He needed something worth living for and she just couldn't tell him no.

Her hands feel empty now that she doesn't have anything to busy them with since discarding Christopher's duffle bag in his bedroom. As she leaves him alone in his bedroom with the knowledge that she won't see him until Monday after school, which technically constitutes as four days in her mind, she finds it hard to not look back at the growing child. Harvey is directly behind her, pulling the door shut to leave a small crack just in case.

She lingers for a moment, knowing that she should inform him on her audition in Los Angeles, but when she looks him in the eye she knows she can't. He was falling apart until Christopher and taking his son away would just send him straight back to that same stretch of bewilderment. She doesn't want to do that, doesn't want to cause him the kind of panic she knows he will have over nothing. So, she bites her tongue for now and decides not to tell him.

Harvey offers her a soft smile as they enter into the living room, wiping his palms on his thighs. She doesn't understand why he looks so nervous when they've been in this position nearly a hundred times before. She watches his throat bob as he swallows. He looks nervous himself, like he has something to tell her but he can't.

She furrows her brows then and says, "You look like you want to tell me something."

"Who? Me? No," he says with a slight shake of his head, "Can I get you a drink? Some wine, perhaps?"

Her gaze sharpens on him as she studies him. Nothing about his appearance looks particularly out of place, not for his closet these days. Although he does make a substantial amount of money, he no longer wears $10,000 suits and the ones that he does wear are usually straight out of last season's catalogue. It was a sight she had to adjust to, but her own lifestyle has been downsized as well. She no longer wears the freshist designers and has a more reserved wardrobe of pantsuits, blouses that can easily be alternated with skirts, and a much smaller shoe closet. They both returned to their wardrobe of their younger selves, the simplest of their treasures now being transferred to their shared child. There isn't anything alarming in his khaki pants and button up shirt.

She releases a breath, giving up her suspicions. She shakes her head, denying his offer. She says, "I should probably get home, let you have him all to yourself."

"He's asleep," Harvey counters, "I'm not missing out on any bonding time with you being here."

"I shouldn't," she replies.

He nods then, his shoulders slump and his shirt seemingly swallows him with the movement. He says, "Let me call you a cab then."

"I've got it," she says definitively. He doesn't try again, just follows her towards the front door as she forces herself to leave before she can't. She grabs the door by the handle and turns towards him. He's standing close to her now, like their nightly ritual of tear-jerking goodbyes isn't getting old. It's been years and they still aren't entirely passed it now, some old saying about things left unsaid playing in the background. "Call me if you need anything."

"Donna," he says forcefully, "You know I will."

She nods, her eyes glazing with the realization that she isn't going to see that beautiful little blonde carbon copy of Harvey's face. She pulls the door open, his hand instinctively lifting towards her face but hanging in the air in front of her. She turns before he can touch her, excusing herself for the evening. She closes the door before he says anything else, stands there to wipe at the mist beneath her eyes as she composes herself before going downstairs.

It takes a few short breaths before she feels prepared enough to descend the stairs. When she finally reaches the lobby, the cute neighbor girl who lives on the second floor is getting her mail. She doesn't manage to skip out unnoticed as her feet echo throughout the otherwise silent room. She smiles at the girl.

"Hey," the girl says with a chirpy voice, "You coming from that lawyer guy's apartment?"

"He's not a lawyer anymore. He retired," she replies. Lying to protect him has always been part of her second nature.

"Are you his girlfriend or somethin'?" She asks.

On that note, she wants to duck out and avoid the conversation all together. Harvey hates personal questions and this young girl is only accosting her for one reason only. This girl is obviously interested in Harvey. If he's going to date someone, she reserves the right to know whoever it is if the woman is going to be around her son. She quirks an eyebrow and plays up her charming side.

"We share a kid but, no, we don't date," she says sweetly. The girl turns slightly shier then, her cheeks filling with a shade of embarrassment. She can't help herself as the old predatory version of herself kicks it into high gear. She reaches out and starts playing with the girl's hair. "You have really pretty hair. Are you interested in him?"

"Oh, we've never spoken," she answers, shrinking into herself, "I've just seen you around. I thought you guys made a cute couple. You're always laughing and so comfortable with each other."

"Oh," she says, throwing her shoulders back as she puts herself into check, "He's my best friend, but we've never dated."

"That's too bad," the girl replies with a shrug.

The girl slams her mail locker shut and runs up the stairs. Donna watches the girl disappear, feeling a little guilty over how intimidating she was for absolutely no reason. She shifts her gaze to the locker and reads the name printed on it, K. Wilson. She'll have to send Harvey's neighbor some apology flowers or something like that.

K. Wilson's words stick out in her mind well into the morning.

The bedroom door cracking open takes his attention away from the article on his phone that he's been boring himself with for the last half hour. He's become an insomniac as he's gotten older – tiring himself so he can actually fall asleep on the nights that he doesn't spend with his son. And with Donna. He never forgets that without her sticking around then he still wouldn't have anything worth living for. On the days he doesn't see her and Christopher he feels very…alone.

He feels diminished, like his value in this world is uncertain and everyone turned their backs on him. He barely sees Jessica except for a customary monthly dinner where she continues to float the bill no matter how times he protests. A get together with Louis ends in bickering nine times of ten, mostly because the smug bastard gloats about his work at any given point, and Harvey needs a mediator in the form of Donna (and in very worst case scenarios Christopher) to even get through the night. It's awkward seeing Rachel except for when Donna pleads with him to make an effort. He hasn't even been able to go to the prison facility where Mike is for a visit in over two years. He feels like a shitty person most of the time.

He shines the light from his phone in the direction of the door and says, "You okay?"

Christopher proceeds into the room and Harvey sits up in preparation to help the kid onto the bed. The kid settles into the bed beside him, snuggling into the pillow that never gets used. Christopher's tiny hands wrap around Harvey's bicep as he discards his phone onto the nightstand.

"I miss mommy," Christopher whines quietly.

Harvey feels Christopher's chin drop to his shoulder and leans his temple against Christopher's forehead. He swallows, wishing he could swallow his thoughts. He says, "Me too, Buddy."

He feels so vulnerable in this moment but knows that Christopher would never repeat his words at this stage. The day she had told him she wanted to have a baby he had jumped on the confession as a way to keep her from going anywhere. They are tied together for the rest of their lives and that's what he'd always wanted. It isn't even like the feeling of missing her is a new development. He's always missed her in some capacity, always missed being with her and felt desperate to act on his love for her.

It's nothing new.

She feels very unprepared the moment she steps off of the plane. She'd been able to distract her thoughts with a little lite reading on the plane, but the sunshine of Los Angeles is nothing but an eye opener. The sunlight blares directly into her face on the west coast, unlike the city streets of New York where she gets some peace from the spotlight. The sunniest spot in the whole city is Shakespeare Garden in Central Park.

She hails a cab from the airport and takes it straight to the studio where she will audition for a role in Days of Our Lives. Her agent had convinced her to do it even though it was on the complete opposite side of the country. She had agreed because she needed to be able to provide for Christopher. Even with Harvey's help, now that they are both living much different lifestyles than they once were, she worries that some days the kid won't have everything that he needs.

Part of her had maybe hoped that getting a job in Los Angeles would propel the possibilities of them being a true family into action. K. Wilson's observation had not been a rare occurrence. Even Rachel has told her on multiple occasions that they appear to be a couple and relatively domestic. If that's the case, she sometimes wonders why they aren't together. She hopes the idea of her moving thousands of miles away will kick him into high gear.

First, she just has to nail the audition.

"Donna Paulsen?" A woman asks, voice monotone and sounding extremely tired of the entire ordeal, as she looks over Donna's resume.

She throws her shoulders back and stands tall, her heels making her even taller. If Harvey were here she'd be able to look him directly in the eye, maybe even stare him down. She feels confident, maybe even overly confident – confident enough that she could stride right up to the father of her child and tell him that they are moving to Los Angeles as a unit.

"Yes?"

"Great. Let's get started," the woman says, peering at Donna over her glasses, "What do you do in your free time?"

She pauses there, not entirely sure the best way to answer this question. She's a 41 year old woman who doesn't have a steady job, a rich life, a husband or a boyfriend, and is the mother of a toddler. She doesn't even know how to describe what her hobbies are. She wavers in her confidence under the vapid stare of the casting woman. Her counterparts look less than thrilled on either side of her.

Donna gathers herself faster than she even could have imagined; she says, "I do yoga, drink a little wine, and headline a few off Broadway plays every few months. I had a kid two years ago but he won't be a problem."

"Married? Divorced?"

She half smirks and lightly shakes her head; she says, "No. He's around a lot, we're just not…together."

"You're over forty, Donna," the woman says, "Why get into television acting now?"

"I worked at a law firm that was highly demanding of my time and I enjoyed the very lavish life that job allowed me to live," she replies, sighing as she takes in all of the years she put herself on hold for Harvey – not because he asked her to but because she didn't want to part with him. She shrugs and adds, "I just didn't go after what I really wanted. I am now."

"Let's proceed," the woman states. There's a hint of a smile threatening the corners of the woman's mouth. She buries her excitement deep down.

"Uh?" His breath hangs in the air as they literally run into each other at daycare.

She furrows her brows in response, squinting as she takes in his appearance. He looks tired, hands in his pockets like he's having a bad day. She recognizes the gesture as him trying to appear less bothered by something than he really is, but he looks like he's a wreck. She wonders what happened since she last saw him Thursday night. His three day weekend with Christopher turned into 3 days and 4 nights, the man should be ecstatic.

She paints a smile on her face, her hair catching in the wind before they have even entered the daycare building.

He swallows and continues; "I thought I was picking him up and meeting you at your apartment."

"Why don't we just go in together," she says, gesturing to the front door. She feels him giving her the once over and she feels a little exposed in a pair of black jeans and a purple silky button up top. She didn't expect she'd run into him. He waves his hand, motioning her to go ahead, and she wonders if he's looking at her curiously. "Did you have a good weekend?"

"It was great," he says through his teeth. He's lying. She knows he's lying because she's heard him lie to people over the course of 16 years because it's been his job, but it's rarely ever been directed at her. She's concerned about what went wrong. He shrugs as he opens the door for her and follows her inside. She hears, "Missed you though."

"He got to see me every night before bed," she reasons. She gets it though. She missed Christopher, too, and the weekend away from him had been hard. She just kept reminding herself that she was doing it for him so she could get through the distance, even though she suspects she blew the audition. "It sounded like you two had fun."

"Oh, we did," Harvey counters, "But bed time was a battle. He did not like his routine being different than his routine with mommy."

"What did you do differently?"

"I wasn't you," he answers with a shrug.

His statement saddens her. She doesn't want for his time with Christopher to be contingent on their son's need or want to be with her. She feels bad that Harvey feels slighted from his weekend with their son, but she can only hope that it changes drastically over time.

"I'm sorry, Harvey," she mutters, reaching up and lightly touching his arm.

They round the corner to the entryway of the daycare where they pick Christopher up 4-5 days a week. Their shoulders are touching as they come to a halt. They stand there in silence and watch as it takes Christopher a few moments to realize they're there. He sees them and nearly lights up like a Christmas tree. Harvey digs his hands into his pockets as she adopts a soft smile.

"Mommy!" Christopher screams excitedly as he jumps to his feet and runs into her arms.

"And I'm practically invisible," Harvey mutters.

She smirks as she hugs Christopher to her. She says, "I missed you, Buddy. Did you miss me?"

"Yeah!" He screams.

She pulls back to look him in the eye. She asks, "Is it okay if Daddy comes over? He really wants to tuck you in tonight."

Christopher has fallen asleep with his head on her lap and his legs draped across Harvey's lap. Christopher was clinging to her side until he fell asleep nearly half an hour ago, and it made her feel better. Part of her had been afraid that he wouldn't miss her at all. It's hard wanting to be the favorite parent but also wanting Harvey to be the favorite parent.

"The bottle's empty," Harvey says, the green wine bottle perched in his grasp as he turns it upside down over her empty glass. She feels her cheeks become warm with the slightest hint of embarrassment. She hates being embarrassed because her skin lights up red and the flush sticks to her skin for hours. She thinks she drank the whole bottle by herself save for one glass. "Want me to open the other one?"

She lightly shakes her head, reaching over and patting Christopher on the stomach. She says, "We should probably get this one to bed."

"I'll get him," Harvey insists, putting the bottle back on the surface of the coffee table as he pulls back. He lifts Christopher's legs from his lap and stands before she can even react. He lifts Christopher in his arms, cupping the back of his head out of habit. "I'll be back."

He disappears down the hallway, the shadows engulfing him, towards Christopher's bedroom. She stands, deciding to clear the bottle and empty glasses to the kitchen while she contemplates how exactly to tell him that she went to Los Angeles. She's been trying to tell him all evening but hasn't been able to get it out. Not while Christopher was awake, and since Christopher fell asleep, she's been too busy staring at his mouth while he was speaking idly about something work related.

She ditches the glasses and bottle in the kitchen and goes back into the living room determined to tell him. She almost runs into him, but he steps back quickly and catches her by the arms. They are an arm's length apart.

She says, "Harvey, I-"

He darts quickly towards her, his mouth succumbing hers as he kisses her. His index finger curls under her chin, guiding her closer as he meets her halfway. Her own hands find his sides with ease, fingers pressing into his ribcage as they form around the depths of him. The taste of his tongue sticks to her lips. She absently licks her lips there, allowing him access to delve his tongue into hers.

His scent reminds her of all of the times she held Christopher almost too tight after he got home from a night at Harvey's just so she could smell Harvey on Christopher's clothes. The pads of his fingers pressing against her neck begs with her, burns her skin as he etches his slightly calloused fingers along her hyperaware flesh. His lips are softer than she remembers, warmer and more inviting than memory serves like he's trying to tell her secrets she doesn't know. She hasn't kissed him in so long (the memory has faded but the sensation remains). She is scarred by the promise of him, by this unfulfilled prophecy that someday, someday, someday –

is here beneath her fingers as she grasps on tight and can't let go.

She should pull back and say, "We shouldn't…Christopher."

She should pull back and say, "Harvey, don't."

But she doesn't, she can't. She wants to but she's too selfish. She slides her hands down his ribcage, fingernails pressing against the material of his cotton shirt. Her hands slip beneath the hem of his shirt, nails sliding over his torso on their trail to his back. He hisses into her mouth and it vibrates, tickles her tongue, in tune with him pushing his body against hers. Her back slams against the wall. His hands cup her cheeks instantly, angling her mouth more towards his.

It ends with them tangled in her sheets, him buried deep inside of her as he grasps both of her hands for dear life. It's better than any candle she's ever left burning, takes her higher than any building could. She forgets somehow that this isn't the way things have always been.

Harvey climbs the stairs to her apartment with a bouquet of flowers, white lilies and purple cushion poms and orange roses, and Back to the Future in one hand, shitty Thai food in the other. He doesn't understand how the only food that made it through the war was that shitty Thai place – her pregnancy cravings were so off that by the time Christopher was born she wouldn't eat anywhere else. His disdain for that Thai place hasn't wavered but he knows her order by heart, knows that she likes it so much that he can, once again, put up with it for her.

He can hear his son alternating between screaming and laughing when he arrives at the door. He kicks the toe of his shoe on the wooden door because his hands are too full, and she hears some muffled version of Your dad is here being yelled across the apartment. Although he loves Christopher, he's relieved when Donna answers the door. He audibly releases a breath of relief and leans against the doorframe.

"Hey," he says, a grin spreading across his mouth, "I brought your favorites: Back to the Future and shitty Thai food."

"And what are these?" She asks, hands engulfing the flowers and she sticks her face into them. It was the gentlemanly thing to do to bring the woman flowers, especially given the rather undefined status of their relationship after the night before.

"A present for the pretty lady," he replies with a shrug.

She grasps the flowers by the stems and takes them from his hand, her fingers lingering against his for a nanosecond longer than what was probably deemed necessary. His heart lurches in his throat and beats there for a few moments. He just grins through it, trying not to let himself buy into what could just be false hope.

"Thank you, Harvey," she mutters. She looks so shy in this moment, like she doesn't know how to properly thank him or that words are even enough. Her eyes widen suddenly and it prompts him to furrow his eyebrows, the bridge of his nose creasing as the silent what? rests on his lips. "I hope you brought enough food for four because Rachel was having a full-fledged break down and is coming over."

He swallows his initial reaction because Christopher runs up to throw his arms around Harvey's legs. He reaches his hand with the movie in it down and absently pats Christopher's back. The kid's tiny fists beat against the back of his thigh. He sighs then, not quite sure how they are ever going to talk about the night before. He shouldn't have left without waking her up.

"Why don't you go put this movie in, Buddy? It's mommy's favorite," he says. He's already tired of how this night is going to go.

She leans back slightly to peer at him sitting on the other side of Rachel. Her friend had managed to crash what potentially could have become some resemblance of a date. She doesn't even know why she's disappointed; it isn't like their evening thus far has been anything out of the ordinary. Rachel couldn't detect that anything had even happened between them. But when she looks at him, he looks back at her.

His eyes are soft, inviting and somewhat full of his younger self. She smiles gently, her eyes darting away from his intense stare. She can feel him all over her body, the warmth of him and the smell of him lingering around her all day. She doesn't know what any of this means and she is terrified to find out.

She feels pressure against her elbow and looks up to see that his fingers are resting against her arm from across the back of the couch. The movement is brief as Christopher wraps his hands around Harvey's upper arm and begins tugging. He moves his hand back, grabbing Christopher with both hands by the waist, and begins moving his legs really fast to create a vibrating motion for the boy.

There's something about this moment, with Rachel sitting between them, that makes her think about everything that brought them here. Many times over the years she has looked over at him with Christopher nuzzled in his arms, and thought that she's glad she's gone through life beside him. She sometimes forgets that they were barely lovers, sometimes friends, always colleagues but never more. She sometimes forgets that her partner in life hasn't really been her partner in life at all.

Half of her life has gone by and she's been dedicated to a man who might not even love her back.

They look like a couple when they tell Rachel goodbye. They look like a fucking couple and she just had never seen it before. His hand went to the small of her back like normal. He stood beside her at the door like normal. He played with Christopher like normal, even tucked him in like normal. The evening was absolutely normal.

Except for the fact that they absolutely looked like a couple. She had never seen the fact that their lifestyle strongly resembled a couple without romantic physical contact despite the romantic gestures being there. She had always justified it in one way or the other by calling it co-parenting and friendship, but they were undoubtedly emitting couple like behavior without the obligation of obvious commitment.

She asks herself what prompted the long time coming shift in their dynamic. Maybe her decision to go to that audition in Los Angeles and giving them time apart (multiple consecutive days) for the first time in almost 3 years allowed them both to get a glimpse of what their life would be like without the other in it. It isn't even that either had certainly expressed how they felt about their time apart. Not to mention that he hadn't even questioned her about where she had gone.

Usually if Christopher is staying at Harvey's, Donna is there until well after Christopher falls asleep before she goes home, and vice versa. She didn't make any appearance for 4 full days (which includes when she had asked Harvey on Sunday if Christopher could stay another night). For all she knew, Harvey thought she was having a weekend getaway with a man.

She wasn't. Of course she wasn't. How could she even consider another man when she has Harvey in her life and, save for an active sex life, he fits in the role of her significant other quite easily.

The fragility of the entire moment is weighing heavily on her.

She's putting the flowers in a vase, already regretting that she'd waited so long to do so, when he enters the kitchen. His hands are buried in his pockets, thumbs out and tapping against his hips. She wonders why he isn't saying anything.

"What were these for?" She finally asks.

He shrugs and pulls his hands from his pockets, closing the space between them to lean against the counter beside her. He says, "I wanted you to know that I don't regret what happened last night."

"Why now?" He seems to have built up some confidence as he reaches over and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He smiles then and she notes a little twinkle in his eyes. She pulls her hands away from the bouquet and presses her palms against the countertop. "I'm just wondering because we've known each other for such a long time and that has never happened before."

"It happened once before," he corrects with a playful smirk.

She sighs, shaking her head and sliding away from his touch. She says, "Not like that."

"I missed you," he explains gently, "I just didn't know how to tell you that."

She nods once to acknowledge his words. She looks at him, her gaze becoming glazed over at the sight of the sincerity in his eyes. She wants to point out that he held her so tight that she thought he wouldn't ever let go, that she felt happy and unafraid of what that meant in the moment. She wants to say so much on the matter but, like him, she doesn't know how.

Instead, she rounds the counter and lays a hand on his chest. She pushes up to press her lips against his, lingering there to take in his warmth. She wants him to understand that everything she's done, she's doing for him or them or their son. She wants him to understand that he means more to her than she will allow to continue. It's now or never.

She pulls back and says, "Good night, Harvey."

She excuses herself to her bedroom with tears in her eyes.

Her phone rings from its place on the counter beside the bouquet of flowers Harvey brought her. Bob, her agent's name, lights up on the screen of her phone. She answers it, immediately putting it on speakerphone as she dips her bag of tea into the steaming mug of water.

"Hello," she greets. It's only been two days.

"Donna!" He screams excitedly.

"Please tell me that you have good news," she replies.

"Great news! They loved you!" He says, "Listen, I gotta run! But pack up, Sweetheart, you're moving to Los Angeles! We'll talk details later."

She feels like an asshole.

She's staring at Harvey. She realizes this is a thing she's doing when he looks up at her and grins. His grin is wide much like an athlete who has just won some sportsball thing. She's found it very hard to look him in the eye and return his enthusiasm since she found out about the part in Los Angeles. She's seen him the normal amount, but she doesn't feel secure enough to have the much needed conversation with Christopher around and when Christopher isn't around she is too distracted by Harvey…touching her in some capacity.

How can she speak when that man is looking at her? Or touching her?

She's been ignoring his gazes and avoiding his touches for so long that now when it happens her heart is beating too quickly to concentrate on anything beyond breathing. She always thought she was the level headed one out of the two of them. Turns out she was way wrong. She knows telling him will mean she is breaking his heart even if he really needs to know. And now.

She slowly smiles back at him, her elbows pressed on the table for support. She feels like she can't even hold herself upright when she looks him in the eye. She feels like a bigger version of the asshole he's always been considered to be. Their gazes and semi-intimate smiles are promptly interrupted by Christopher's palm slamming into Harvey's face and the slapping noise reverberates around the room, sifting through all of the chatter. She sits upright as well, her guilt temporarily forgotten.

Harvey immediately sits upright, pushing his palm into Christopher's back as he whispers something into the boy's ear. When she catches a glimpse of Christopher's face he has the trembling lip and his father's pout, and Harvey gently pushes him in the direction of his seat between them. She's been thoroughly impressed over the years by his ability to remain calm regarding Christopher, although his frustration right now has certainly taken up residence across his face.

Christopher climbs into his seat with her help. As he sits, she leans over and whispers, "You might want to apologize to Daddy. That really upset him."

"Sowwy, Daddy," Christopher mutters, leaning his pout against his arm as he lays them onto the table.

She looks up at Harvey, slowly, and he just shrugs in response as though to tell her that it won't be a big deal once Christopher is through with his pouting. She smiles and nods before shifting her gaze towards the entryway to check if Louis, who asked them all to join him for dinner and made the reservation, or Rachel have arrived yet. She doesn't see anyone who resembles them so she decides now is the perfect time to tell Harvey because he isn't distracted by a 2 year old.

"I need to tell you something," she says shakily.

She looks past Harvey. There is a waitress quickly approaching and part of her hopes the woman is coming to their table. Harvey resituates in his seat, leaning forward in his seat and recreating a much more jovial version of Christopher's position. His huge smile has returned.

"I'm listening," he says cheekily.

The woman stops at their table then, her hand finding the back of Harvey's chair as she smiles politely. She says, "My name's Roxanne. Can I start you with anything to drink while waiting on the rest of your party?"

"Waters for now," Donna replies quickly.

She nods and turns her attention to Harvey. She says, "And for you?"

He looks at her dumbly for a few moments, like he's hoping she'll come to the conclusion that Donna was ordering for all of them on her own. When Roxanne bats her eyelashes and says nothing, he sighs. He replies, "The water will be fine, like the boss said." The waitress disappears around the corner as he rolls his eyes. He looks to Donna again, lifting his eyebrows. He adds, "You were saying?"

She opens her mouth to speak when something seems to catch Harvey's eye and he quickly looks away from her towards the entry. She follows his gaze to see Louis walking in dangerously close to Scottie. Her eyes widen and she lightly begins to shake her head, not sure how to comprehend what she's seeing. Surely her eyes are lying to her. She looks back at Harvey just to find out if he's actually seeing what she's seeing. He's scowling, most definitely blindsided by this new development.

"Harvey, Donna," Louis says, "I believe you know Dana Scott."

"Good to see you again," Scottie says, charmingly. Donna snaps her eyes in Scottie's direction, surprised that the woman could pretend like nothing had ever transpired between any of them. Scottie's eyes land on Christopher and she smiles politely. "And who's this little guy?"

"Christopher," Harvey says in a monotone voice. A pouty faced Christopher sits up at his name. Donna has never felt more speechless in her entire life. She doesn't even know where to start.

She watches Scottie's face shift into an extremely overwhelmed and confused look. She points at Harvey and mutters, "He's yours?"

The blonde hair on Christopher undoubtedly belongs to Harvey. The slit eyes, long fingers and smile, too. His nose belongs to her, but their eyes are the same color so it's difficult to designate a sole owner of those. She usually says Christopher is a carbon copy of his father and she wouldn't be wrong.

"Louis didn't tell you," she says as an observation. Scottie's brows furrow as she weighs the options, sitting beside Harvey or sitting beside Donna and she decides on the lesser of two evils, sitting beside Harvey. Louis rushes over to push Scottie's chair in, much like Harvey had done for herself before anyone else arrived, and he sits in the chair beside her which leaves Rachel the seat beside Donna. Harvey's laughter is haughty yet quiet. "He's both of ours."

"So you're together?" Scottie asks. Her voice sounds genuinely congratulatory. Donna isn't fooled. "Congratulations."

Neither of them feel the need to explain. Harvey shrugs as Christopher slides out of his seat. He catches the kid before he can get too far and pulls him back onto his lap after the hitting mishap. Scottie is watching him with slightly parted lips, seemingly shocked by the entire situation. Donna watches Harvey's hand rub against Christopher's belly.

"How did you two reconnect?" Donna asks.

Scottie finally looks away from Harvey and over at Louis. Donna inwardly cringes when Scottie reaches over and lightly covers Louis' hand. The exchange is almost too weird and she doesn't think she'll ever get used to seeing it. Donna looks over at Harvey who is back to entertaining himself with Christopher. They should stop going to such nice restaurants for the potential scenes they keep making.

"We ran into each other at the courthouse," Scottie starts, "He invited me to the ballot and I found his knowledge impressive. So when he asked me for dinner, I thought why not."

"I am not going to get used to this," Harvey mutters.

Donna prepares herself for the cheeky reply from Scottie but before it arrives, Rachel does. She looks frazzled as she tucks a hair behind her ear and sits in the open seat beside Donna. She doesn't even notice that Scottie is sitting between Harvey and Louis, but when she does the entire table is suddenly filled with tension. Donna can literally hear crickets.

The silence is too thick. She opens her mouth and all that comes out is, "I'm moving to Los Angeles."

She can practically hear Harvey's jaw tense as he calmly stands up and sets Christopher into the empty chair. He excuses himself, walking away. Donna is watching Harvey's retreating form.

She's watching his heart break and she doesn't know how to stop it.