Hello! Yes, remember me? I still exist. Despite quarantine sucking out any productivity and motivation I might've had, I managed to punch this out in a little less than 48 hours after months of no inspiration.

Since we're in the habit of dedicating things, this chapter is for my auntie, whom I still love even though she tattled on me to my dad about restricting my access to food as motivation to get this done. I'M EATING NOW, DAD. ARE YOU HAPPY?

I think it's pretty obvious at this point that I don't own most of this content, but boy, do I wish I owned Simon Baker.

"It might be a little while, but

Maybe we'll realign soon

Made to reassign, but

Find me a little time too"

"Come on!" Rosie shouts as she drops the Nintendo Switch in her lap with a groan.

"That's three out of five, baby!" Mike says with a whoop of glee. "I told you you couldn't handle the master. I've been playing Mario Kart since before you were born."

"You only won because I used Yoshi instead of Peach," Rosie argues.

Mike shakes his head and links his hands over his head, stretching dramatically, "Whatever helps you sleep at night, kiddo."

Just as Rosie goes to shoot off a smart response, she hears her dad calling from the kitchen, "Dinner's ready, losers. Get in here."

"And that's our cue," Mike chuckles.

"Don't think we're done yet," Rosie glares at him through narrowed eyes.

Mike shrugs, "Okay, but it's your funeral."

"We'll see about that."

She hops off the couch and bounces excitedly into the dining room with Mike trailing behind her. When she plops herself into her seat, she immediately turns to her mother and Rachel, who are already seated at the table with full plates and half-empty wine glasses.

"Mike is such a cheater."

"I resent that," he argues back as Harvey brings over their plates and takes a seat in front of his own. "You're just a sore loser, though I think it comes naturally."

He throws Harvey a glance at his last words, which the other man pointedly ignores.

"You should see him play cards," Rachel adds with a little roll of her eyes.

"Being able to memorize the deck doesn't actually count as cheating," Mike says.

"So you say."

Rosie giggles at the interaction. Though it's nothing new, she's lately found herself relishing in the simple normalcy of her parents and their friends' banter. So much of her life has been consumed by workplace drama and legal tragedies and family issues that have culminated in quite a traumatic experience for someone her age, despite her privilege. At least, that's what the therapist she's been seeing recently has told her. Despite the way everything seems to be falling into place recently, Harvey had insisted on her talking to someone, using his own experience as a perfect example, and claiming his issues might not have been so bad if only someone had sought professional help for him at her age. Rosie hasn't particularly seen a dramatic difference in her general mood, but she has noticed herself beginning to appreciate things more for what they are lately. Dinners with her family included.

When Harvey moved in a couple of months ago, their weekly dinners had quickly turned into Tuesdays with Mike and Rachel. They alternate apartments every week so that Harvey or Rachel isn't forced to fix every meal, and a couple of times they've even gone out together when a particularly tough case had been closed. Instead of going out for drinks with coworkers, they preferred celebrating together with Rosie and Donna, squabbling over video games and other nonsense. Having spent most of her childhood with only her mother, Rosie finds that she quite likes having a larger family, even if that family isn't by blood and includes her being severely outnumbered by adults.

After dinner, they all watch ghost hunter videos on YouTube and eat leftover donuts from one of Mike's morning meetings. Harvey nearly chokes on one of his during a particularly jarring jump scare, making everyone else laugh and Donna ask if he needs her to hold his hand. He shrugs her off, but it doesn't go unnoticed by Rosie that his arm around her shoulder tightens its grip a bit.

As far as her parents go, it seems cliche to put it like this, but Rosie has honestly never seen either of them happier than they've been in these past months. Granted, she's only been around them for a short portion of their lives, and she's been cognitively aware of them for even less of that time, but instinct tells her she's not wrong about this. Their family movies nights are more frequent, they're both almost constantly smiling, and Harvey is all the time splurging on little gifts and things for the apartment just because. Every month on their anniversary, Rosie gets shipped off to Mike and Rachel's for a couple of hours while they have a date night, something her mother teases him about relentlessly—something about Hailey's third-grade graduation which Rosie doesn't understand at all because as far as she knows, that's not even a thing.

She doesn't mind the extra time with Mike and Rachel, really. They've both been her built-in babysitters for years, Rachel herself even longer than that, and especially with all the wedding planning they've been doing lately, she's never bored. By the time their big six month anniversary rolls around, she and Mike are pretty square on Mario Kart wins, and Rachel's practically perfected the seating chart for both the rehearsal dinner and the wedding reception. It doesn't even cross Rosie's mind that this date night will be any different than any of the other ones, despite it being more of a landmark than all the others. At least, not until Harvey urgently pulls her into the kitchen looking very serious and not at all like himself while Donna is still getting ready in the bedroom.

"We need to talk," he says, voice low and eyes not meeting hers.

To Rosie, that can only mean one thing.

"Anti-Gravity Desk was all Mike's idea, I swear! You can ask Louis himself."

"No, that's not—" Harvey cuts off, her words catching up with him, and he raises an eyebrow. "Anti-Gravity Desk?"

"Forget I said anything," she replies. "It's for the best. What did you want to talk about, then?"

Harvey glances around nervously and tucks a hand in his pocket that fidgets relentlessly.

"Are you off your meds or something?" she asks. "You look a little…"

"Anxious?"

"To put it lightly."

"Yeah, I mean, no, I'm not off my meds," he assures her, but he doesn't seem any calmer. "I just...I need to…"

"Maybe if you just spit it out," Rosie says with an eye roll.

"I need to ask you something kind of important."

"Okay…" Rosie drawls, watching as his free hand flexes in and out of a fist.

"You know um...it's been six months since your mom and I...since we, ya know."

"Uh huh," Rosie nods.

"Well, it doesn't seem like all that long of a time, but in reality, it's been, I don't know, like, thirteen years since we met and there's something to be said about my restraint thus far in doing this sooner if I'm being honest, and quite frankly, I know people who have done it sooner, so, really, this is nothing in comparison, and I just—"

"Dad," Rosie interrupts, placing a hand on his arm to steady its shaking. "You do realize you're making no sense at all right now, don't you?"

"Yeah," he nods.

He removes his fist from his pocket, but keeps it tightly locked, though when his eyes finally meet hers, his body seems to relax enough for him to take a breath and get a grip on the counter so that she's no longer worried about him keeling over at any moment.

"You wanted to ask me something?" she urges.

"It's been six months since your mother and I first became a couple, and tonight I want to ask her to marry me."

And before she has a chance to register his words, his fist is opening up, and in his hand, she finds what can only be the ring Lily gave him when they were in Boston last year shining back at her.

"Dad," she gasps audibly.

"It's um...it's your great grandmother's, and I haven't gotten a chance to get it resized or anything, but Marcus proposed with the other one and I thought, you know…"

"She's going to love it," Rosie promises, feeling tears building in her eyes when she finally looks back up at him. "That's what you wanted to ask me? If the ring was good enough? She doesn't care about the ring, you know that, don't you?"

"I do, in fact, arrogant as it may seem," he smiles to himself and places the ring back in his pocket. "That wasn't actually what I was going to ask."

"Then what is it? Worried she'll say no?"

"I wanted to ask your permission."

"My...permission?"

"Well, yeah. I think the whole father's blessing is a bit outdated, and your grandfather isn't exactly my biggest fan, but she's your mom, and I've already inserted myself into your life more than you might've expected, and I just wanted to make sure it was okay."

The overwhelming emotion that fills Rosie's heart at that moment is incomprehensible. She can't risk crying because Donna will certainly be able to tell, and that could potentially ruin everything.

Instead of saying something that will surely make her burst into tears, she settles for, "You do know you're my dad right? I don't think most fathers ask their daughters permission to marry their mothers."

"No," he smiles but looks at his feet. "But most fathers aren't cowards who spend eleven years running away from their own family."

Rosie grabs his hand, forcing him to turn his attention back on her.

"You're not a coward," she tells him sternly. "You thought you were protecting us, and neither of us blames you for that."

"Promise?"

"Promise," she smiles. "And about all that other stuff. I want you in my life, have wanted you in my life, ever since...well, since long before I knew you were my dad. I want you to have joint bank accounts and to not be forced to testify against each other in court and whatever else comes with the benefit of being married. Except, maybe, for those little Mr. and Mrs. coffee mugs. Those are pretty tacky."

Harvey chuckles, and in his smile, she sees an ocean of relief has washed over him.

"You're right about that," he agrees.

"And I'm right about all the other stuff too?" she coaxes, squeezing his hand.

"And you're right about all the other stuff too," he agrees reluctantly.

"Good," Rosie smiles. "Now we can stop doing the self-loathing thing and get back to the 'you're proposing' bit?"

"I don't know what else there is to say."

"What else there is to say about what?"

Rosie whips around at the sound of her mother's voice, watching as she walks from the hallway to the kitchen while still trying to put in one of her earrings. She waits for Harvey to cover for them, but one glance at him tells her he's going to be no help at all. He's staring at Donna wide-eyed and slack-jawed like he's never seen her in evening attire before.

"About Mike suspending Louis's desk in the air today," Rosie finally spits out, recalling the beginning of the conversation with her father. "He calls it Anti-Gravity Desk."

Donna stops short as her earring slips into place, "Anti-Gravity Desk, huh?"

"Dad won't believe me that I wasn't in on it," Rosie continues while Harvey's eyes remain fixed on her mother.

"Maybe that's because you're typically the mastermind behind every Louis prank," Donna goads her, but it's all with humor. "Are we all ready?"

Harvey, finally somewhat snapped from his trance, manages a little nod, and just as Donna goes to grab her purse, Rosie nudges him with her elbow.

"Stop staring at her like that. She's gonna notice."

This brings him back fully, and as Donna returns, he even manages to slip his hand casually into hers and gives Rosie a little smile over his shoulder that proves he's back in control.

"You never did tell me where we're going tonight," Donna muses as Harvey pauses to make sure the door is locked.

"I told you it's a surprise," he smirks, placing his hand on the small of her back and guiding them towards the elevator.

"You're sure that's the story you wanna stick with?" she says, eyebrows raised questioningly. "I'm going to figure out you're winging it when they happen to misplace our reservation wherever we end up."

"You think too little of me, Ms. Paulsen," Harvey tuts playfully just as the elevator opens and they file inside. "You really think I'd wing it on such a special occasion."

"I might," Donna pretends to mull this over. "If I didn't know you better."

"Yet know me, you do," he counters, giving her waist a little squeeze.

The journey to Mike and Rachel's is relatively silent, considering Rosie is afraid to speak without bursting with the secret her father had just told her. The small pleasantries that are exchanged between her parents and their best friends nearly cause her to explode, so it's really no wonder that as soon as the door shuts behind them she loses it altogether.

"Dad's proposing tonight!" she squeals, barely remembering to keep her volume low, in case her mother is somehow within earshot.

"He's...what?" Mike splutters out while Rachel just screams.

"He told me right before we left tonight. He's got his grandmother's ring and everything."

Rachel continues to babble excessively, asking a million questions, hardly any of which Rosie has the answer to since her earlier conversation had been cut short. Mike, however, seems unsure of how to react.

"I can't believe he didn't tell me!" he finally says with a little pout. "I'm his best friend."

"Don't feel bad," Rosie reassures him. "I'm his daughter and the only reason he told me when he did was because he wanted to ask my permission."

"He asked your permission?" Rachel gushes. "That's so sweet."

"Yeah," Rosie agrees, "but it's not like I would actually say no."

"Look," Mike cuts in, "I hate to interrupt when you two are on a roll, but I did rent Fantastic Beasts just for this occasion, and we don't have all night."

"It's not like we haven't already seen it twice," Rosie argues but begins moving towards the bedroom anyways.

"Good cinema is good cinema, kiddo," Mike replies as he and Rachel follow behind. "You can't beat it."

Once they're all settled on top of the bed and Mike has the DVD rolling, it doesn't take long for Rachel to fall asleep. Predictably, she asks a couple questions at first and then falls silent for a while before Rosie notices she's out. Disinterested and worn out from a long day at work, she usually never makes it through the whole movie, but this time she's dead to the world before the real plot of the movie has begun.

"Do you wanna do something else?" Mike asks Rosie after a while of listening to Rachel's heavy breathing. "I mean, like you said, we've already seen it twice, and if she's not even going to remember any of it…"

"I could obliterate you in Mario Kart again," Rosie suggests teasingly.

"As much as the thought of me obliterating you in Mario Kart does appeal to me, I don't think we'd be very quiet. I don't want to wake her yet. She'll want to be up when your parents come back, and she hasn't got a decent night's rest in a while."

"Okay," Rosie agrees and scoots to the end of the bed so she can slide off without disturbing Rachel. "You teach me a new card game then."

After thirty minutes or so of playing a two-person game that Mike calls Trash, Rosie begins to get bored and ends up pestering him with questions about his life before he joined Pearson Hardman. Some of the questions he answers easily, others he evades for what she can only assume are either embarrassing reasons or things he thinks she's too young to know about. At some point, though, his early life turns into his first years working with Harvey back when she was too young to remember much of anything. He tells her a really good story about a time he and Harvey snuck into Louis's office after hours which has her laughing for a good five minutes.

Once Mike runs out of good stories for her, they easily shift into a back and forth of Top Five, discussing anything from books to artists to clothing brands.

"Okay," Rosie says when it's her turn to ask. "Top five non-Marvel movies."

Mike looks supremely offended, "What?!"

Rosie giggles, "If I let you do Marvel, it would take up all five!"

"Not true," he argues

"Okay, most of them though."

"Probably."

"So," Rosie urges, "go on."

"Alright," Mike sighs, concentrating. "So, Top Gun, obviously."

"Obviously," Rosie rolls her eyes.

"And Die Hard because, I mean, it's Die Hard. I'd probably have to say A Few Good Men...Dead Poets Society...and…"

Here, he trails off, debating something internally before chuckling a little to himself.

"Okay, this last one...I'm gonna tell you, but you have to promise me you won't tell anyone else, especially your dad, and I know I'm giving you blackmail material for eternity, but for the sake of the game—"

"Just tell me!" Rosie begs, growing impatient.

"It's...The Devil Wears Prada"

"I love Devil Wears Prada!"

He smiles somewhat shyly, "I know you do."

"It's probably the only movie other than The Parent Trap that I have almost entirely memorized."

"That," Mike says pointedly, "does not surprise me."

"I can't believe you never told me how much you like it," she laughs.

"Well...you know..." he shrugs.

"We have to watch it next time I come over," says Rosie excitedly. "The only person I ever watch it with is my mom and she spends half the time talking about how hot Simon Baker is."

Mike chokes out a laugh, "Your mom has a thing for Simon Baker?"

"Oh, for sure," she replies, eyes wide and dramatic. "She's been watching The Mentalist for like basically as long as I can remember, and she fully cried when it went off the air last year."

"Why doesn't that surprise me at all?"

Rosie shrugs, "She's got a type. Not that I blame her."

"That she does," Mike nods in agreement. "But, um, hey, while we're here with some time to kill, just the two of us, there's something I need to tell you."

"Shoot," Rosie says, tucking her feet under her and turning so they were face to face on the couch.

She notices Mike is looking at his lap and can't help but remember the way her father had approached her similarly earlier that night with some pretty big news. Whatever Mike was planning on telling her now, it wasn't something he'd just thought of off the top of his head.

"So, you know how I was working for that clinic when I first got back from prison?"

Rosie nods.

"Well, the reason I was working for them was because, well, they're more about helping the people who can't help themselves. It's different from the kind of thing we do at the firm. It's...I don't want to say better, because the work your dad does is important too, but it's more of my area of expertise. I feel like it's somewhere I can make a difference. I belong in a place where I'm working for the common man, not the one percent. Does that make sense?"

"Kinda," Rosie tilts her head, thinking this over a bit. She may not understand exactly what he's saying, but she gets the gist of it. "You're not happy at the firm."

"It's not that, exactly," Mike grimaces. "I do love working there. I love being in the same building as Rachel all day, and being your dad's partner is amazing, and the people there, they're like my family. I just...the work I'm doing. I could be doing more, should be doing more."

"I thought my dad was still letting you work for the Clinic?" Rosie ponders aloud.

"He was letting me do that, but sometimes it's hard to keep track of the two. It's complicated. I don't expect you to understand. I just wanted to…"

He sighs, shaking his head almost imperceptibly.

"Rachel and I got a job offer," he finally manages. "Working for a place like the Clinic, except we'd be heading it up, running the whole place with our own associates and everything."

"Well, that's great, isn't it?" Rosie smiles. "I mean, I'd miss seeing you guys around when I came to the office, but we'd still have our Tuesday dinners and plenty of time on the weekends."

Mike smiles back, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes, "That's the thing. We wouldn't have those things...because the job is in Seattle."

Rosie's heart sinks before she even has time to consider what this means, "Seattle?"

"Yeah."

"But that's...that's like…"

"On the other side of the country," Mike nods. "I know."

"You're moving to Seattle?" she asks softly, tears pricking her eyes.

"Not officially, no. We haven't decided yet. They've given us a little while to think it over, and I wanted to tell you because it's important to me that whatever we decide, you know we didn't leave you out of the equation. Of all the pros and cons list we've made for staying or leaving, your name has always been right up on the top of whichever side meant that we'd stay."

She isn't sure she knows how to respond to this, but it ends up not being an issue because just then there's a knock on the door that can only belong to one of two people.

"They're here!" she cries and immediately races back into the bedroom to nudge Rachel awake. "Rachel, come on. Get up. My parents are here."

Groggily, Rachel begins to stand up, understanding the urgency even though she's still half asleep. It doesn't matter, though, because when they make it into the living room, Harvey and Donna are already there, and Mike is pulling Harvey into a hug while Rachel and Rosie practically pounce on Donna, searching for her ring.

"It's so pretty on you!" Rosie gushes while Rachel observes the heirloom in detail, seeing as she's never had a glance until now. "I mean, I knew it would be, but it definitely looks like it belongs there."

"It does, doesn't it?" Donna sighs as Rachel wraps her arms around her and they both do a little girly squeal that is very uncharacteristic and yet entirely precedented.

Rosie turns around, expecting to catch her father, but apparently the men have already gone in search of celebratory drinks.

"I can't believe everyone knew but me," Donna shakes her head in amazement.

"We haven't known all that long, really," Rachel assures her. "Now, spill the details."

Donna sighs, a happy, content sort of thing, and leads them all over to the couch where she sits between them.

"It wasn't anything extravagant, really. He took me to the bar where we first met, and we sat in the same little booth we were sitting in that night, and I thought it was sweet because it was six months and everything. We just sat there eating and reminiscing for a long while, and before I knew it he was pulling a ring out of his pocket, saying that the last time we were there together, he knew he wanted to marry me. It was ridiculous, of course, but I let him get away with it because I couldn't exactly be trusted to form a coherent sentence. And that was it."

"Plain, simple, and a little messy," Rachel concludes. "Sounds on-brand for the two of you."

Donna smiles but is halted from saying anything further when the men come back in the room carrying four beers and a cream soda.

"Sorry," Mike shrugs. "I didn't know we would be celebrating. This is the best I could find on such short notice."

"Ugh," Rachel grimaces as she takes one of the bottles. "This isn't even cold."

"It's fine," Donna assures Mike, taking a bottle for herself from Harvey's outstretched hand and then passing Rosie her own drink.

They stay for a while after that, chatting about not only one, but now two weddings and so many other things like all of the times Mike and Rachel thought they were going to tear their own hair out from watching their best friends struggle with their feelings and doing nothing about them. Everything is all smiles and laughter and teasing for so long, in fact, that Rosie actually forgets all about Seattle.

By the time she and her parents arrive back at their apartment, she's exhausted and puts up no argument when Donna says she needs to go straight to sleep. She does, however, pause outside her bedroom watching Harvey get a bottle of water from the fridge while removing his jacket and tie.

"Dad?" she asks quietly.

'Yeah?" he moves towards his own room with his water but stops when he reaches her.

"Would you really not have asked Mom if I didn't want you to?"

He doesn't even hesitate before replying.

"Yep."

Rosie ponders this for a moment. She wonders if that little thought hadn't been plaguing her all evening.

"Isn't this the part where I'm supposed to say that you must not love her enough if you aren't willing to break down every obstacle to be with her?" she wonders aloud.

"You could look at it that way," Harvey shrugs. "Or, you could look at it like a father who would do anything for his daughter, including putting her happiness ahead of his own."

Rosie smiles, "I'm glad we don't have to look at it either way."

"Me too," he agrees with his own twin smile. "Goodnight, Shortstop"

"Goodnight, Dad."

He doesn't wait to see if she heads for her room, and she watches as he walks casually into his with a spring in his step that she hadn't ever seen before.

The next month passes in a blur. April 25th is the date of Mike and Rachel's wedding, and despite the craziness going on at the firm, Donna is determined they won't postpone it again, so they really only have a month to throw things together, which keeps Rosie distracted and busy enough outside of school, even when Spring Break rolls around. Everything is perfect, more than perfect by her standards, until two days before the wedding when her entire world falls apart.

Her parents have just told her that Mike and Rachel's final decision has been made. They're moving to Seattle. Yet, that's not even the worst of it.

"What do you think about Boston?" Harvey asks her as she attempts to wipe away her tears.

"What about Boston?" she sniffs.

"About, um, living there," Donna finishes.

"What?" Rosie finds her voice cracking. "You want to move to Boston? Why? I don't want to move there! All my friends are here. Just because you're losing your friends doesn't mean I have to too."

Harvey tries to reach her but she yanks away.

"Rosie..." he starts.

"You aren't really going to make me, are you?" she asks her mother, begging for the answer she wants so desperately to hear.

"I think...it would be good for you," Donna says instead. "Good for all of us. Things have been crazy here lately, what with Jessica and everything. Your dad and I...we think this is what's best for us right now. We need to go somewhere that we can focus on just being a family for a little while, slow down, get our bearings a little. With Mike and Rachel gone, work just won't be the same, and we've got no other family around here. Boston is where Grandma and Marcus live, and it's much closer to Pops and Grammy too."

Despite the fact that Rosie would love living much closer to all of her grandparents, she can't imagine being anywhere but New York City. No more Broadway dates on weekends, shopping in Times Square to make fun of the tourists, skating in Central Park-all the things she loves most about the city where she was born.

"But this is our home," she counters.

"Well," Harvey sighs, "we want to make a new home. One that's all of us together. A fresh start."

Though unconvinced, Rosie can see that arguing is a losing battle, so she goes to her room to sulk in privacy. After a while, she calls Alice and they cry over the phone about having to have a long-distance friendship. She listens to sad music and stares at her ceiling until she's tired enough to fall asleep.

On the day of the wedding, Rosie can think of little else besides what's happening from one hour to the next. She helps Donna and Rachel with their hair and makeup for a long while, carrying messages between the bride and the groom who she is insistent upon keeping apart even though Mike has already seen Rachel in her wedding dress.

When it's time for the actual ceremony, Rosie sits alone in the front row on the groom's side, because Mike has no other family members to occupy the other seats. She watches first as her parents walk down the aisle together looking absolutely radiant like they belong there. Then there's Rachel, and Rosie thought she looked beautiful before, but when everyone stands for the bride, she can't help but think that's her Rachel, the one that's been there for her through sickness and heartache and any number of horrible things, and she swells with pride. Her Rachel finally getting what she deserves after all this time. She glances quickly at Mike, noticing from this short distance that his eyes are swelling with a few unshed tears at the sight of the woman who is about to become his wife.

As they say their vows, she sees her parents exchange a meaningful gaze, one that says, "This will be us soon." Rosie can't wait.

She watches the rest of the ceremony with a thousand-watt smile on her face. After Mike and Rachel have broken their kiss and are beginning to walk back up the aisle, Mike reaches out an arm and snatches her around the waist, pulling her in to plant a very wet kiss on her cheek that has her laughing with both slight embarrassment and pure joy.

At the reception, Rachel introduces Rosie to a blonde woman named Samantha who used to babysit her when she was younger.

"She was basically what I am to you," Rachel tells her with a smile. "Except, probably a lot cooler."

"I don't know about that," Samantha laughs. "You seem pretty cool yourself."

"Rachel's the best," Rosie agrees. Though she's not usually easily persuaded to take up a conversation with someone she hardly knows, she finds chatting with Samantha about Rachel incredibly easy. The older woman has plenty of embarrassing stories that she's never heard, and Rosie has a few good new ones that Samantha probably hasn't heard either.

"So," Samantha says after a while, "you're Harvey Specter's kid?"

"The one and only," Rosie smiles proudly, glancing over Samantha's shoulder at her father who is laughing with Mike and some man she's never seen before. "You know my dad?"

"Only by word of mouth," says Samantha, popping a grape into her mouth and chewing before continuing. "Thankfully for him, we've never been on opposite sides of a case."

Rosie laughs, but says, "Don't underestimate him just because you've only heard the rumors."

"Oh, I'm not underestimating him. I just have a lot of confidence in myself."

"I can respect that," Rosie nods. "My mom says it's important for a woman to make up for the world's treatment of them with their own confidence."

"Sounds like my kind of woman," Samantha says, raising an eyebrow as she takes a sip of champagne.

Rosie notices movement over her shoulder and peers more closely to see Mike beckoning her to him. She excuses herself politely and walks the maze of people and tables to get to him.

"Let's dance," he says as soon as she reaches him, grabbing her wrist before she has a chance to protest.

She laughs as he drags her out onto the dance floor, where plenty of people she doesn't know seem to be having a grand time. Mike doesn't attempt to arrange them into any sort of formal dancing position, but instead takes her hands and begins swinging their arms and spinning her in and out and around in circles while they both laugh until the band takes the hint and switches the song to something more upbeat. She vaguely notices some people she recognizes moving around her: Rachel's parents, Louis and Sheila, Katrina, and Alex. Samantha even joins in after a while, swaying around with Rachel's dad while her mom takes a break. When the upbeat song ends, Mike guides her back over to their table.

"Thank you," he says with a heavy breath.

"For what?" she asks, confused.

"Saving me," he replies, gulping down some of his drink and stuffing a slice of pineapple into his mouth. "They never warn you that you don't actually get the food you picked out for your own wedding."

Rosie laughs, "Well, you're welcome to use me as a buffer for as long as you need. I don't exactly have anyone else to hang out with."

"Sorry," Mike gives her a sympathetic half-smile but quickly turns back to trying to fit as many crackers in his mouth as he can.

"So how does it feel?" she asks him. "Being married, I mean?"

He shrugs, "Not so different really. It's more of a formality at this point isn't it?"

"I guess so."

"I mean, don't get me wrong. I've wanted to marry her for a long time now, and I love her more than anything, but we've been sharing a life and an apartment for so long...it's always sort of felt like we were married, even if we weren't."

"I think that's sweet, but I wouldn't tell Rachel that."

"Not a chance," he smirks at her with a wink.

She sits for a while with him so he can eat in peace for a bit. Every now and then he'll make a comment that doesn't require more of a response than a smile or a slight chuckle, and she's content to crowd watch by his side. She sees her parents dancing together for a good bit, which, though now a pretty common sight, still makes her heart feel light.

"Do you remember when I first came to work for your dad?"

Mike's words draw her away from gazing at the crowd of dancing guests and back to him. He's wiping his hands on a napkin, plate empty, and looking a lot more satisfied.

"Not really," she says after a moment.

"Well, you didn't like me too much at first," he reminds her.

"That, I remember," she grins, thinking back to a short period of her life when she must've only been four or five and the vague feelings of bitterness and anger she had felt towards her dad's new best friend. Only, she hadn't known he was her dad then, and his new companion was someone that took away her time with him.

"You hated me, actually, up until the night you had to get your appendix out," Mike continues.

"I don't remember that much either," she admits. "Just that it hurt a lot"

"I'm not surprised. You were kinda out of it most of the time, but I was hoping you retained at least some of it. Someone's gotta give me credit for holding your little head over the toilet while you puked your guts out."

"You did that?" she asks, slightly surprised, though she really shouldn't be.

"Yeah. Harvey was too busy yelling at some nurses or something. Held you right there in my lap on the floor of the waiting room bathroom until they called you back."

"You're going to be a really good dad someday, Mike," she tells him sincerely, not really sure why he'd chosen to bring up this particular story at this particular time, but going along with it anyways.

He chuckles softly, "Well, I sure hope so. If I can be half as good a dad as yours is, then I'll be okay."

"Well, I think you're going to be great because you've already been better than that to me."

"Yeah?" he smiles a little sheepishly.

"Yeah," she repeats with an affirmative nod.

Perhaps it hadn't fully sunk in before this moment (though what caused it to now she doesn't know) or perhaps it had sunken in a long time ago and she'd been burying it under loads of new happy memories, but the realization that in just a few short months, she'll be in Boston and the newlyweds will be three thousand miles in the opposite direction makes her desperate to do something, anything, that might keep the feeling of peace and contentment she's had all day stay just a little longer.

"Mike?"

"Hmm?" he hums, his attention shifting to the guests as hers had earlier.

"Don't go to Seattle."

"Rosie—"

She stops him before he can offer some empty platitudes, "Please. Just...don't go. I don't only want to see you on birthdays and Christmas because eventually birthdays and Christmas is gonna turn into Christmas and then Christmas will be Skype because you want your kids to be home for Santa, and I just...I just got my whole family, and I'm not ready to miss you yet."

"I know, kiddo, but this is just something I have to do for me. It might not be for forever. In fact, I doubt it will be for forever."

"A lot can happen in just a couple of years," she counters grumpily. "So much is changing, and at first it was all great, and I was so excited, and now…"

"I know you're scared about Boston," he picks up after she trails off. "But you're the most amazing kid I know, and you're going to make new friends in no time."

"I doubt it, but it's not just that. I'm going to have to find a new therapist and a new doctor and a new, well, everything."

"Yeah, but…"

"My mom said it was a fresh start for us. I get that, really I do, but it's just, they never mentioned anything about it until you guys started talking about moving. They said the firm wasn't going to be the same without you and Rachel like they didn't wanna be there without you, and I just thought if I could convince you guys to stay—"

"You wouldn't have to go to Boston," Mike finishes with an air of understanding.

"Yeah."

Mike remains solemn for a moment, as though piecing something together in his head. She watches his face as it carries a range of emotions, wondering if this is what he looks like when he's truly invested in a case. She's never seen him work before, so she wouldn't know, but this definitely feels like an idea forming in his head. After a little while, he stands up abruptly.

"I need to talk to your mom about something," is all he says, no final words to address their previous conversation that was left somewhat open-ended, no further explanation. He just walks away towards the buffet where Donna is talking with Katrina over a plate of shrimp.

Rosie watches as he explains to her whatever it was he'd just been thinking for a few minutes while her mother listens with wide eyes. Donna says something back, and they go back and forth for a few seconds, then head off in opposite directions: Mike towards Rachel and Donna towards Harvey. Seeing as she can't keep up with both conversations at once, Rosie settles on watching her parents instead. Harvey slips an arm around Donna's waist almost, it seems, subconsciously while she prattles on about whatever Mike had wanted her to relay to her. Harvey stares intently before responding in kind. Donna seems rather enthusiastic about whatever it is, while Harvey looks stoic in comparison, but Rosie knows him well enough that she can tell he isn't. He's excited about something too.

Soon after, they all four converge, and Rosie decides she can't take it any longer. Whatever they're up to, she can't sit here one more second and not know what it is, so she weaves her way over to them just in time to hear the end of her dad's sentence.

"...if it's our own firm."

"Your own firm?" Rosie asks, interest fully piqued. "Is that what you guys were conspiring about? You want to start your own firm."

Mike looks to her, "Well, it was just an idea…"

"A perfect idea!" Rosie squeals, unable to contain her excitement. "You can take whatever clients you want, and we can all stay here. No one has to move."

"Well…" Harvey tries, but she barely notices.

"You can get out of your Seattle jobs, right?" she asks Mike and Rachel.

"Yeah, but, see, the thing is, we're under a pretty tough non-compete clause here in New York, and considering all the rule-bending Specter Litt has been doing lately, I don't think it'd be a good idea for any of us, much less all three of us, to try and wiggle our way out of that one," Mike tells her.

"I'm not really sure what that means, but it can't be that bad, right? You guys can find your way around anything. Isn't that kind of what lawyers are best at."

They all laugh a little at that, but it's Donna that finally explains.

"If we started a firm, it wouldn't be here. It would be in Boston."

"Oh," Rosie deflates a little. "So we'd still have to move?"

"Yeah," says Harvey, "but Mike and Rachel would be coming too, so it would be better, right?"

Rosie smiles, "I guess I could live with that."

"We feel really bad about everything we've put you through," Donna tells her earnestly. "What with lying to you about your father's identity for so long, and everything during Mike's trial and your grandmother and...we know you don't want to go to Boston, but sometimes parents just have to do what they think is best, and this is one of those times. We thought, maybe, having Mike and Rachel there, us still being a family, it would make it alright."

"It'd be alright," Rosie agrees, but she's smiling too widely to maintain any sense of indifference.

"We still have to go over everything for the next couple of days and make sure we can work it all out, but if Mike and Rachel are on board, your dad and I are one hundred percent on board."

"Are you?" she turns again to Mike and Rachel specifically.

"Remember when I said your name was always at the top of my list of reasons to stay?" Mike asks. "Swapping Seattle for Boston is a small price to pay for being able to put your name at the top of the one telling me to go. Plus, I think Rachel's parents will hate me a little less if I'm only moving four hours away as opposed to three time zones."

In the next instant, Rosie throws herself at him, hugging him as tightly as she can, sure she's going to start crying any minute now and soak his tuxedo, but chances are he's never going to wear it again anyway, so she can't really bring herself to care. She hugs all of them in turn, spending extra long in her mother's arms, looking at her with tears streaming down her face.

Because it is Mike and Rachel's wedding reception, they don't get to spend much more time discussing the impending future as any of them might've liked, but it ends up being a good time anyway. Rosie lets Harvey coax a couple more dances out of her, and she introduces him to Samantha, telling the woman that soon she won't have any competition to worry about in the NYC legal field. Katrina catches the bouquet when it's tossed and Rosie manages to evade the whole scene to catch it on video. By the time the newlyweds are ready to head home, Rosie is thoroughly worn out. She knows she'll see them again before they leave for their honeymoon (a week-long vacation in Italy), but she can't help getting a little emotional at the goodbyes anyways.

In the next couple of days, any of their free time is devoted to hammering out the finer details of the move and getting Mike and Rachel packed for their trip. The night before their trip, while the men are at a late meeting with a client, Donna and Rosie are helping Rachel fold her clothes into her suitcase and discussing how they'll integrate into life in Massachusetts. Despite their line of work, neither of them truly belongs in the snobby business scene, which they insist will make up eighty percent of the people they'll be forced to interact with.

"Maybe we should fake that horrible accent," Rachel laughs as she tosses Donna a couple of dresses.

"I was thinking about investing in some kind of rewards program with Ralph Lauren. You know, so the guys will always have plenty of Polos and we'll have plenty of...whatever kind of dresses they sell."

"Oh, and Sperry's too," Rachel adds.

"I think we need a boat," Rosie puts in as she stuffs a pair of Rachel's into an already overflowing bag of shoes.

"That too," Donna agrees. "Rosie, you can go by your full name in Boston. Maybe dye your hair a more natural color. Take up horseback riding."

"Okay," Rosie agrees after pretending to ponder this for a moment, "but Prep School is where I draw the line. I'm not going anywhere that makes me wear plaid."

After they've had their fun and Rachel is all packed and ready to go, Donna and Rosie head out for the night, promising to see them off at the airport in the morning.

The morning, it turns out, is way earlier that Rosie expected to have to be awake for an 8:00 AM flight. She doesn't bother putting on anything remotely attractive and pulls her hair up into a ponytail as she's being rushed out the door by both of her parents with a bagel held between her teeth. They walk Mike and Rachel right up to security and exchange a few quick hugs. It's less of an affair than it might've been, had they been moving across the country in the next two months. Just as Rachel grabs her things and tells Mike it's time to go, he leans over and presses a kiss to Rosie's cheek.

"You better get lots of practice in while I'm gone or prepare to taste defeat."

Rosie smiles, "Next Sunday. My couch. Be there."

Mike gives her a wink and follows his wife without another glance back.

By the time they come home, Harvey has already found a newly developed neighborhood in Boston and two houses for sale to put an offer on. Donna contacts a couple of different people about leasing on an empty office space in the city, and then they start packing. Rosie still isn't sold on this idea completely, but knowing they're all going to be together for a very long while makes the whole ordeal seem a lot less daunting.

She thinks she ought to start looking for good areas to hold a wedding reception in Massachusetts.

Is it bad to say I didn't really proofread this because I'm lazy? And hungry. Because that is entirely true.

Anyways, this chapter was very Rosie + Machel centric which wasn't purposeful at first but became so by the end. If you don't like Mike and Rachel (I know there are people who don't), then I'm really not sorry. Perhaps you out to learn to, but really, who am I to say?