AN: This one is dedicated to Mr. and Mrs. Specter. And to all my fellow darvey shippers and friends, we may not get Suits anymore (until the movie or something of the like, I'm forever hopeful) and I know this pales in comparison to an actual episode, but I hope this helps fill the void even just a little bit. Enjoy xo

…

They enter the elevator hand in hand, an all-consuming silence befalling their measured steps. She leans into him when they start to descend, wiping away a few lone tears that have remained after speaking with Louis.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" Donna softly asks after a beat.

Harvey takes a glance at her and smiles, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze, "I think he's going to have his hands full for a while. He'll be fine, Donna." He kisses her forehead, lets his lips linger just as the elevator doors open.

She hums by way of response, waning out a smile as they step out, making their way back outside to where Ray was waiting for them.

"She was pretty cute," Donna murmurs with a smile when they reach the black Lexus, Harvey opening up the back door for her, sliding in when she had been situated.

His hand meets hers immediately again, a familiar gravitational pull that's only been enhanced by their recent nuptials. He still couldn't believe it.

"Yeah," Harvey grins, the slow stretch of his cheeks making his eyes crinkle, "she was."

Donna tilts her head, an impish grin on her own face as she studies her new husband, "What's that look for, Specter?"

Harvey shrugs, looking away toward the passing scenery for a moment before making eye contact with her again, "I liked seeing you like that."

His soft response makes her eyes water for some reason, whether it's the fact that they're moving away from their friends, their recent and sudden wedding, or a culmination of everything, she doesn't know. But still, she blinks in the darkened car, voice just a tad raspy when she speaks, "With the baby?"

He nods, thumb rubbing soothing circles on the palm of her hand.

Donna smirks, "Well, don't get any ideas. I don't think we're going down that road just yet."

Harvey chuckles, catching her arm as she settles against him, nuzzling into his chest as they ride along the city, "Remember how things turned out when I told you we weren't getting married any time soon," he sing-songs in a teasing manner, kissing her temple.

She turns her head, quirking an eyebrow at him, "You're insatiable, you know that?"

"And yet you still married me."

There's something about the ass of a grin he gives her that makes her want to kiss him instead of rolling her eyes, and she blames it on the fluttering in her stomach, knowing they were officially entering the honeymoon phase of their marriage.

Their marriage.

"We really got married," she states, an air of disbelief and awe laced in her words.

"We did."

Their eyes meet in the near darkness, twin smiles adorning their faces and they wordlessly meet in the middle, sharing a sweet kiss.

They're interrupted a few seconds later as Ray clears his throat, "Mr. and Mrs. Specter? We've arrived at your destination."

Donna breaks from the kiss with a smile, turning to look outside when her eyes widen. "What's this?"

The back door has been opened by now, Ray awaiting patiently as Harvey turns to his wife. "I got another little surprise up my sleeve."

His nonchalant and all-too-knowing smile makes her scoff, "Little? Harvey what the hell are we doing at the Carlyle?"

Harvey glances outside toward the hotel, upstanding and elegant, massive and a little over the top… but exactly what he had in mind. "I wanted our first night as husband and wife to be special."

Her eyes soften at his words, takes a grip on his hand with hers, "It would've been special anyway," she assures, "but I thought we were going back to the reception."

He tilts his head, half amused and half delirious with happiness, "You really would rather go back to the reception to celebrate our marriage with Louis and Sheila's family?"

She knows he would make Ray drive them back around, take them to whatever destination she so pleased to be at, but she also knew he knew her just as well as she did him, and her grin let him know just that, "No."

His chuckle matches hers, and he leads her out of the car without any further words. They say their goodbyes to Ray, the older man bidding them another congratulations and a playful wink before driving off.

Harvey catches Donna under the cursive neon sign, hand on chest, just as she had looked when they were recently- and briefly- engaged. He squeezes her hand, making her eyes land on his, "What did you do?"

"I planned to give my wife a night she never forgets," he kisses the corner of her mouth, parting to catch her still stunned expression. He leads her inside the massive hotel then, the doorman having had left the wide doors open for their entrance.

…

She lets him talk to the concierge alone, watches with a giddy smile and curious eyes as he exchanges words with a young man in a suit. He nods to the younger employee, accepting what looks to be a keycard before placing it in his pocket and making his way back to her.

"Ready?"

"For what exactly?" She narrows her eyes, but nonetheless lets him grasp her hand in his, leading the way toward the elevators. She's barely taken notice of the elaborate lobby, the elegant black and white porcelain decor, the marvelous chandeliers or the high ceilings. Her eyes remain on her new husband, and her new husband only.

"You're about to find out."

It almost annoys her, the way he tells her in an overly mysterious way- eyes filled with mischief and grin permanently implanted on his face, stripping years of his age. But then she catches a softness in his brown eyes, the slow swallow he takes as they step into the elevator, and she knows he's partially nervous.

So, she gives his hand a gentle squeeze, cups his face in her hand as soon as the elevator doors close, and gives him a kiss. She means to keep it short, wants to thank him with her actions rather than words, but then his hands are snaking around her waist, pulling her flush against him, and she moans.

There's something about the fact that she's kissing her husband and knowing that said husband is Harvey Specter- boss turned friend turned boyfriend turned husband- that makes her toes curl into her heels.

His tongue slides against hers and she eagerly accepts, runs her hand through his hair by way of telling him more. So, he walks them until her back is pressed up against the metal wall, gives her tongue one last gentle suck before he's parting, trailing wet kisses on her jawline.

She's nearly motionless for a while, eyes hooded, and skin riddled with goosebumps. She feels hot and cold at the same time. He sucks on her pulse point and she shivers, but his right hand is massaging her breast and she feels herself breaking out into a sweat.

"Harvey," she gasps when he strategically places his leg between hers, hating herself for parting them by way of habit.

He hums against her skin, feels a jackass of a grin against what she surmises to be her now red and raw skin.

"Save something for the honeymoon suite, will you?"

Her words make him pull back at last, and she's both thankful and annoyed at the gesture.

"How did you know?"

She tilts her head, watching him licking his swollen and tainted lips with a confused expression, "Please."

He shouldn't be surprised, it's Donna after all, and even with his efforts to conceal the surprise, it doesn't take a genius to unwrap the truth. He gives her a faux pout, helping to adjust her dress just as the elevator signals their arrival.

"But I'm sure I'll love it," she tells him with a smile, eliciting that same Cheshire grin he's worn all night. He gives her hands a kiss before he's leading her out.

They're a few steps from the double doors at the end of the brightly lit hallway when Donna speaks up again, "Exactly when did you plan all this, anyway? You were with me the entire night."

He turns to her, gives her a mischievous look like he knows he's got the upper hand on her again, "When we were writing our vows. I asked Mike and Samantha to help me with all of this," he waves his hands around them.

"You asked them to help you book the honeymoon suite in one of New York's most expensive hotels at short notice?"

Harvey nods, "Among a few other things."

She gives him an incredulous look, eyes shining with curiosity and amusement and love all at once. Before she can come back with another quip, however, he's scooping her up in his arms. She lets out a squeal of surprise, immediately wrapping her arms around his neck as he holds her bridal style.

"What the hell is this?" She giggles, staring into his eyes.

"I'm carrying my bride across the threshold," he states matter of factly.

Her laugh is infectious, and he kisses her grin before scanning the key card he'd fished out of his pocket beforehand. He struggles to multi-task for a moment, between holding Donna steady and not letting the keycard slip out of his hand when Donna starts nibbling on his ear.

"Donna," he warns, kicking the door open with his foot, "I really don't want to drop you."

She giggles, giving him a kiss on his cheek before taking pity on him and pulling back, "Sorry."

He shakes his head, smiling nonetheless as he struggles to find the light switch. He groans as he shifts her gently in his arms, trying to flip the switch where he guesses it's placed while trying to keep steady.

Donna's about to take over the task, feel around the wall to their right before she feels him bump into something. Out of reflex, she's holding onto his neck for dear life, feels the ground beneath her- him- shake and wobble before finding balance again.

"Shit," he curses, and she stifles back a laugh, "who the hell puts a chair that close to the door?"

"A thousand dollar a night hotel, is my guess."

"I want my money back," Harvey grumbles, but she laughs at the ridiculousness of it all, cupping her mouth in near shame. "You finding this funny?"

"I'm finding this hilarious," Donna giggles good-naturedly. She's able to make out the shape of a switch behind him, flips it with a flick of her finger and she's met with a half-ass annoyed look.

"I'm glad you find humor in my pain," he pouts dramatically, "I bumped by knee."

She matches his faux disappointment, "You want me to kiss it and make it better?"

"My knee or my pride?"

"You're the one who insisted on carrying me throughout this whole charade."

"I was being romantic."

"You were being ridiculous," she bites back another laugh, noting the way he shoots up an eyebrow, "But I love you, anyway."

Harvey groans, gently dropping her on the floor, "Barely four hours married and we're already bickering like an old married couple."

"We've been bickering like an old married couple for well over a decade, Harvey, catch up." She playfully nudges his arm, and she knows he's half-kidding with his teases, the glint in his eyes assuring her it's all in good fun, as always.

They pause for a moment, taking the time to adjust their eyes to the now well-lit room. Donna's eyes widen when she's finally able to take it all in.

She's stayed in her fair share of over-exuberant hotels over the years, be it for galas or weekends away paid by the firm, but there's something different about this one. Yes, it was over the top with its high ceilings and thousand-dollar chandeliers, over-priced rugs and velvet pillows, but it held a warmth and charming elegance that fit with Donna's own classic taste.

"Harvey,"

"Do you like it?" He's nervous again, she could tell. His voice ends on a hopeful note, and he's breathing a little quicker now, but she squeezes his hand to further reaffirm her earlier assurances to him.

"It's perfect."

The bridal suite was simple enough- compared to the lobby itself and what she's seen of the hotel in the past. There was a large living space, cream colored couches with a well-sized kitchen, modern appliances and all, a large television and another door leading to what she guessed to be the bedroom. But it wasn't the modern decor mixed with the classic that drew her attention, it wasn't even the breathtaking view of the city from the large living area. It was the trail of blood-red rose petals scattered about, leading a path to the bedroom. It was the bucket of ice with an expensive bottle of champagne and a plate filled with chocolate covered strawberries with a "Congratulations Mr and Mrs Specter" written in a cursive dark chocolate swirl.

"You did all this?" She turns to Harvey again, eyes bright and teary, voice low and filled with wonder and love.

He shrugs, "I just told them to book the suite, to tell the concierge it was our wedding night and to make it look romantic. But I didn't know exactly what that would entail."

Donna steps up to him, wraps her arms around his neck, and he could feel the coolness of her wedding ring against the nape of him, "This is perfect. You're perfect."

He grins at her words, echoing his own from when she surprised him with the greatest gift just a few weeks ago. His arms wind around her, pulling her close for a long sweet kiss.

"What do you say?" He whispers when he pulls back, licking his lips for good measure, "You want to see what they did to the bedroom?"

She quirks an eyebrow at him, feels her skin growing hotter by the second and bites her lip, wordlessly leading him to the other side of the room.

The bedroom's decor mirrored that of the living room's- classic and elegant, warm and expansive. The same trail of red rose petals surrounded the king-sized bed, and her stomach flipped when she saw them placed on the bed in the shape of a heart.

"You okay?" He whispers to her when he notices her hand had moved to rest on her chest, mouth agape and eyes dancing.

She nods, "Just- taking it all in." She turns to him, "It's slowly becoming more real."

"It didn't before?" He inquires softly, kissing her cheek.

Donna closes her eyes, her skin heating up all over again by his proximity alone, "It did, but… this is our wedding night, Harvey," she breathes out, looking into his eyes, onyx and slated, "We're married and we're spending it in a gorgeous honeymoon suite."

He grins, "We are."

"I just-" she chuckles, "this wasn't exactly how I planned to spend my night when I woke up this morning."

"And how exactly did you picture it?" His hands are on her waist again, running soothing circles where the flower stitchings were placed.

"Getting drunk at Louis' wedding," she chuckles, "dancing the night away with our friends before sneaking off to make out in the coat closet, you taking me home right before the cake was cut, just to have your way with me."

He hums against her, low and throaty and she could feel the ache between her legs continuing to grow, "That could still happen, you know. Sans being surrounded by Louis's weird family."

"They weren't all weird," she chortles, gasping the next second when his lips had descended to her neck.

He pulls back just as quickly, "His uncle and that one cousin with the glass eye?"

Donna winces, "Maybe we shouldn't talk about Louis' family on our wedding night."

"I knew I married you for a reason," before she knows it, he's carrying her again, bridal style like he did earlier. She's laughing in his arms, surprise and amusement spilling out of her in waves.

"Harvey."

He plops her down on the bed, navy blue dress juxtaposing the stark white sheets beneath, rose petals scattered about her. He lands on top of her gently, matching her grin. They're both a little breathless from the move, eyes bright and hearts beating in sync. Soon enough, their breathing begins to settle, and their smiles soften as they continue to stare at each other.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?"

Her smile widens, but it's accompanied by a tightening in her chest- the same one she felt when she saw him dropping down on one knee earlier that day. "Once or twice," she whispers, remembering his words during his unexpected proposal. He'd failed to hide what he thought of her in said dress just before they left his condo too, making them almost late to Louis' wedding (and their own).

Harvey sighs, left hand caressing her cheek, their noses brushing in an Eskimo kiss before he slants his lips against hers. The kiss is soft but sure, slow yet passionate. She wraps her arms around him in reflex, bringing him closer to her. His hand is still placed on her cheek, and she shivers upon feeling the cool metal of his wedding ring.

Her husband.

She parts from him then, hazel eyes now a dark brown, lips parted and swollen, chest heaving. "I need you, Harvey."

He grins, a little mischievous and more than certain he wants to ravish her then and there.

"Whatever you say, Mrs. Specter."

She bites her lip at the name, and she pulls him toward her for a crashing kiss. They work in tandem then, ridding him of his suit jacket and dress shirt.

Donna sighs against his lips, rakes her maroon nails down his chest as soon as he's free from any constraints.

It's a struggle to rid her of her dress, though, and Harvey laughs at her frustrated grumble as she tries to blindly unzip the back.

"Here," he commands softly. She follows his guide, sitting up just far enough for him to reach behind her, slowly zipping off the dress. When he feels like it can't go down any further, he stops, turns back to help her rid of the material. The coolness of the silk and the heat emitting from his hands makes her shiver, and she nearly groans when she sees the way his eyes rake over her form.

"Jesus, Donna," he whispers once the dress was fully off. He lets it fall in a pile at the foot of the bed, climbing back to hover over her- now clad in matching black lace underwear and bra. "You're beautiful."

His eyes are hooded, and she hates how hers are tearing up, the emotions of the day coming to near fruition. She pulls at him again, eagerly wanting to feel all of him, love him in every way she knew how for the first time as his wife.

"Pants off, Specter," she breathes, unclasping the front of his slacks as her eyes remain peeled on his. He smirks, helps her rid of the black pants along with his socks. She laughs when he struggles to take them off, covers her mouth when he nearly falls off the bed doing so, and she realizes she's never felt freer.

The sound is ever welcoming to his ears, and he can't hide his own grin from forming.

"You're awfully giggly tonight, Mrs. Specter."

She chuckles again, this time a little breathier, his words resonating something deep within her once again.

"I'm happy," she sighs, reaching up to pull him toward her. He grins against her lips, sinking down lower until their bodies were flushed against each other. He bucks into her out of habit, his need growing by the second and she groans against him as his hardness meets her center. "Harvey, I swear," she pleads with him in a gentle threat, arching into him as a way to get her fix and coax him into getting on with it already.

He wordlessly reaches behind her, lets his lips find the sea of freckles just beneath her sternum as he unclasps her bra. The lace falls off to the side somewhere, but he's more concerned with kissing every inch of her porcelain skin.

She arches into him again, finds him possibly harder than before when his lips find her left breast, and they both let out simultaneous groans. He makes good work on her for a while, lets her squirm beneath him as she tries and fails to rid him of his boxers.

When his mouth is busy trailing kisses to her other breast, she finds enough energy to pull down his last offending barrier and wraps her left hand over him.

"Fuck," he groans, head falling on her breast, her skin muffling his pleasure and she pulls out her own smirk.

"You're taking too long," she sasses, biting his earlobe. Her hand caresses his shaft from bottom to tip, the coolness of her wedding ring making him jerk in place right into her hand, and she knows neither of them are going to last long.

In a quick attempt at a rebuttal, Harvey wraps his fingers around her laced underwear, peels the material down her legs so quickly she can't be sure he accidentally (or purposely) ripped them.

She decides she doesn't care.

His lips descend to her own again, more fervent and passionately than before. She pulls him higher, uses her legs to inch up the bed until her head lands near the pillows, making it so he's not near the foot of the bed anymore.

She wraps her legs around him, cajoles him gently until she's feeling the tip of him at her center. It's when she moans his name again, uses the heel of her feet to guide him forward does he pull back once more.

"Are you trying to kill me?" She breathes out, frustration laced in her words. He tries not to be phased by the way her eyes had become slits, feels the way her nails dig into his bicep and he knows she's on the verge of threatening him with bodily arm.

"Just let me have my fun, okay?" His soft reassurance confuses and annoys her, but she's grown to trust his instincts, especially in the bedroom. So, when he kisses the tip of her nose, trailing soft pecks until he reaches her lips, she doesn't question it.

But when he softly drags his finger from her waistline to the inside of her thighs, she lets out a whimper almost too foreign to her own ears.

She's not about to tell him how much of a turn on it is, to feel his wedding band on her skin, but she's got an inkling he knows. He quirks his lips, lets them land on her neck as his digits sneak further between them.

He teases her entrance at first, relishes in the wetness he immediately finds. It's when her nails dig deeper into his skin, no doubt leaving angry crescent marks, does he easily slide two fingers inside.

She gasps at the sudden intrusion, welcoming and needed, but somehow still not enough.

"Fuck, Harvey."

"I'm trying," he murmurs into her skin, his low chuckle soon being drowned out by her own groans. He eases his middle and ring finger out slowly before slipping them inside once more, setting a slow pace that he knows is not enough to set her off, but rather, piss her off.

It's a while of teasing her with his fingers, curling them slightly in the way she likes it, utilizing his thumb to lightly press her bundle of nerves. She's trembling beneath him, a string of expletives leaving her mouth, hips rocking along to his movements, willing him to go faster and harder, but he keeps his ground.

It's when she expels a breathy "please" against his ear, hands running up and down his back, does he give into what she needs.

He wraps his lips around her breast again, pulling at the tip with the lightest grasp between his teeth. At the same time, he quickens his pace, setting a more direct rhythm with only one goal set in mind: to get her off.

It only takes a few more quick movements, one last flick of his thumb and she's falling beneath him. He never tires of watching her come apart to his touches alone, basks in the moment with a cocky grin, sending any last remnants of blood rushing south. But instead of moving them right along, of entering her and relieving them both, he takes a moment to watch her. Her back is arched perfectly, round and swollen breasts at eye level and he wets his lips at the sight. Her eyes are screwed shut and her mouth is open in a near soundless moan, but he could make out her lips moving to enunciate his name.

He keeps his hand situated between her legs, lets her ride out her pleasure until she's semi-relaxed against the satin sheets again, and he smiles.

"You good?"

"I hate you," she chuckles, a little delirious and deeply satisfied.

"That's no way to talk to your new husband, now, is it?

She narrows her eyes, a quip at the ready, but his own are deeply darkened now, a devilish grin on his lips that makes her skin flush all over again and she mentally curses his uncanny ability to make her come apart by his hands and words repeatedly.

So, she licks her lips instead, voice husky with her recent climax and renewed need for him, "Well, what do you plan on doing about that?"

He feels a surge of mixed emotions then, he's painfully aroused but so deeply in love his throat feels clogged with all the feelings needing to spill out.

"I plan to love you," he kisses the corner of her mouth, barely watching as her eyes flutter at the contact, "over and over again," he kisses her jawline, "tonight, and for the rest of our lives," he only realizes she's crying when he kisses her, tastes the salty tears on her lips. It mixes with the taste of champagne on her tongue, and it's like he's getting drunk on her and her alone.

"Harvey," her soft plea is enough for him to regain focus, and he uses his legs to gently spread hers. She wraps them around him, urges him forward once more, and this time he's finally entering her.

She'll never get used to it, Donna thinks, when she feels him stretching her, holding onto him like he's her guidepost. The feeling of being so intimately close to the love of her life, her best friend… her husband.

He waits a few seconds, lets her adjust to him as much as letting them savor the moment together- joining for the first time as husband and wife. It's enough to set him going again.

She's his wife. She's his for the rest of their lives and he can't believe he ever got so lucky to even have her at all.

He means to keep it slow, let them build toward an even-paced release. But then, her eyes roll back, lip caught in between her teeth and she's expelling these whimpers of need and want and desire, and he knows he can't possibly continue this slow torture. They have the rest of their lives for that. Right now, he just wants to fuck his wife and he's pretty damn sure she's okay with that.

"God, Mrs. Specter, you're going to be the death of me tonight," he breathes against her lips, upping his thrusts.

A delicious shiver runs down her spine, body tingling and she already feels the familiar coil in her abdomen beginning to tighten.

"Say it again," she gasps.

It takes him a moment to understand, what with the force in which he's driving into her again and again, but then she smirks on a gasp and he gets it.

"Mrs. Specter," he groans, trailing kisses from her mandible to her ear, whispering again, "My wife. Mine." His hand sneaks between them, takes residence to where he knows she needs the attention, and the combination of his words and touch is enough to set off the next waves of pleasure for her.

It only takes him two more thrusts before her back is curving and he feels her muscles contracting around him. She gasps his name in a plead and a prayer all in once, and he's there to catch her fall like he always does.

She may be his compass, but he's her North Star and she'll be following him to the ends of the earth.

He's not far behind from his own release, watching her crying out for him sets him off just as quickly, and he's jerking into her until he collapses with her name on his tired lips.

It's a couple of moments before he lifts from her, thinks he might have fallen asleep. His senses are slowly returning to him when he feels her fingers raking through his hair.

"Hi."

"Hi," he smiles, leaning down to give her a soft peck. He situates himself next to her then, pulling her close to him whilst messily pulling down the covers until it's laid over them.

They bask in the silence for two minutes, letting their breathing slow and their hearts settle. Harvey's started a slow caress on her arm, breathing in the scent of her hair and he sighs when the familiar vanilla reaches his senses.

"So," he begins after a moment, "how's your night so far?"

Donna grins, tilting her head to look him in the eye, "A little above average, yours?"

Harvey shrugs, "Could be better."

She swats at his chest, emitting a chuckle form him which she mirrors. He follows it with a kiss to her temple, letting his lips linger on her skin for a couple of seconds.

"Everything's changing."

He pauses his movements at her words, gets a sense of deja vu from their first night a couple of months ago.

"Too fast?" He holds his breath, doesn't know why. He knows she's in it for the long haul just as he is, knows she wouldn't have accepted his impromptu proposal, and especially wouldn't have married him if she hadn't been certain. But after so many years of missed opportunities and insecurities bubbling in him, setting him back and preventing this from happening any sooner… sometimes he doesn't know how to shut it off.

She shakes her head, "No, just- surreal."

He nods in understanding, but he still has to wonder for a moment. They've been a couple for less than a year, and in that time so much has happened between them and the firm, with his family and their plans for the future.

"It's a lot to take in," he murmurs, continuing his gentle caress on her arm. "We got engaged and married on the same day, at another person's wedding, I might add. And we're going to be leaving the firm and move to Seattle."

"Do you have any regrets?"

He immediately shakes his head, confirming her own thoughts and she smiles. "Not one."

She settles back onto his chest, "It's like you said, Harvey, it feels like we've always been together. These past couple of months- you could concede those were our months of engagement," she chuckles, holding onto his own hand, "And tonight just felt right. I never needed the big white Cinderella wedding. I always figured the person I was going to marry was more important than any of that. And it was, you were."

"But you still want to get married for our families, right?"

There's an air of hope to his voice and she grins, "You just want to see me wearing a white dress."

Harvey shrugs, "I have a thing for you in dresses," his hands inch lower until they rest on her hip, his voice lowering, "and no dresses."

She rolls her eyes, but the quirk of her lips tells him a different story, "Ridiculous man."

"Married man," he corrects, kissing the top of her head.

Donna interlocks her fingers with his, eyes their rings shining in the light of their hotel suite. "It really is stunning."

He hums against her, "Yes, you are."

She shakes her head, "You're such a sap."

"I'm in love."

"You're horny."

He feels her wrapping her other hand around him, hisses when the coolness touches his flesh and he feels himself instantly growing harder again.

"Is that a crime," he whispers against her ear, giving it a gentle yet teasing tug with his lips.

"No," she chuckles a little breathier, "just an observation."

They settle back again for a moment, a wordless decision to continue resting before jumping into another round. Donna feels her eyes drooping, could feel weeks of stress and heartbreak and grief culminating into deep exhaustion. But it's not the kind of exhaustion that's painful and overbearing, because it's cloaked with something much lighter: pure bliss and hope for the future.

"I want a baby."

Her eyes snap open, taking her a couple of seconds to let the words sink in before she's turning her head, watching him already looking at her.

"What did you just say?"

His face remains stoic, "I want a baby."

"Right- now?"

It's the second time in twenty-fours that he's rendered her near speechless and quite frankly, a bit confused.

He smiles, a playful shrug following suit, "No… I mean, I wouldn't be opposed it." At her raised eyebrows, he shakes his head, sitting up more comfortably. She follows his movements, realizing this wasn't a conversation they were going to have in reclined position.

"I just want a family with you," he clarifies softly, "I know we've never really talked about it, and I think I know where you stand on it too, but, I just wanted to make sure you knew."

Her eyes soften, the green in her eyes shining under the soft glow from the chandelier above them, "I want that too."

His eyebrows raise, "But?"

"No buts," she reassures him, hands landing on his bare chest, "I just want to know if you want me to throw out my birth control pills now, or in a couple of months."

"You still taking those?" She tilts her head in half annoyance. He takes hold of her waist then, pulling her close enough so she's now straddling him. "I want a baby when you want a baby."

She grins, "Seeing Lucy really messed you up, huh?"

"Seeing you holding Lucy really messed me up," he corrects softly, hands caressing her sides. "I already knew I wanted a family with you, but seeing you holding her tonight? I just can't wait for that to be us."

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about that either," she confesses on a whisper, "and don't think I didn't notice your smile when I held her."

His grin matches her again, and he realizes they've been doing that a lot lately, smiling. And not just tonight, but in the past couple of months since they've been together.

"I love you, you know that?"

She nods, leaning to meet him halfway, "I do." He chuckles into the kiss, and she pulls back, an amused look on her face, "What?"

"It's the second time you said that tonight."

Donna grins wider this time, shaking her head. She leans in to kiss him once more, short and sweet. "I don't know if I'm ready to be a mom just yet," she states when she pulls back.

"You don't have to be," he reassures her.

"But… is anyone ever really ready to become a parent?"

"What are you- saying?"

She gives him a soft smirk, feeling like she's got the upper hand on him tonight again, "I'm saying… what if I go off birth control? What if we- not try, but also not not try? You understand what I'm saying?"

"Oddly? I think so. It might just be one of those weird languages only husbands and wives understand."

She rolls her eyes, "We've been doing that for years, remember?"

"You know we don't need to have kids soon, right? Because I just wanted to let you know that I wanted kids, but if you're not ready-"

She shakes her head, pressing a finger to his lips, effectively shutting him up. "I know, Harvey. And I'm just saying, I want kids too. But I don't want to follow some weird ovulating schedule or think about it or worry about it too much, I just want to see if it happens, and if it happens…"

He grins, "When it happens…"

"When it happens… then it happens."

He's silent for a moment, and she tilts her head, trying to get a good read on him, "What do you say?"

"I say… I can't wait for the day you tell me we're going to have a baby."

She grins, "Promise me you won't pass out? This marriage only has room for one drama queen."

"As long you promise not to get nervous before you tell me," he adds softly, "Because I'm going to be the happiest I have ever been."

"Happier than tonight?"

"Possibly," he whispers against her lips. They meet for another kiss, a little more fervent than before, a new wave of urgency taking over. She grinds into him, feels him fully erect and she groans, leaning to tower over him.

"What do you say," she nips at his jawline, "we practice a little bit more," she nibbles on his ear and he bucks into her, earning him a groan when she feels him against her center.

"I say," he gently tugs on her hair, gets her lips over his once more. He guides her hips so she's directly over him, and he smirks when he feels her heart beginning to race, mouth opening on a low whine, "we have the whole night ahead of us.".

…

It takes her a moment to settle into her own space, for her brain to awaken and come back to earth. It's when she feels the added weight to her left hand does it all come crashing back, hard.

She's married.

Donna grins, full and wide, that familiar overwhelming feeling on her chest returning with a new force. Last night, she married her best friend, and this morning, their forever starts.

She reaches out a hand behind her, trying to blindly find him in the sea of messy sheets and pillows, but she comes up empty. She frowns.

Until, she hears a light commotion on the other side of the suite. She's only able to catch the tail end of a conversation, and guesses it's Harvey talking to a bellboy. By this point, she's sitting up on the bed, stretches out all the delicious aches from the night before and smiles. It takes one quick sweep across the room to see the mess they got into the night before. A champagne bottle is opened- and now empty- on the table across the room. The plate of chocolate covered strawberries are half eaten, and a can of whipped cream is lying at the foot of the bed. Also, empty.

She giggles then, too girly and maybe a little loud for the morning. She remembers them calling the front desk, a little drunk on sparkling wine and each other, asking for a can of whipped cream. Harvey had been willing to pay whatever price, making Donna laugh against him, nibbling on his ear and rubbing him over the thin sheets.

They had taken full advantage on the foamy cream, reliving their first night together as a now married couple, laughing and kissing, moaning each other's names until they felt spent and the bottle was kicked off to the side, with nothing left in it too.

They'd lost count on how many rounds after the third, falling asleep sometime after three or four in the morning, sticky and sweaty, smelling like vanilla cake and strawberries and chocolate. It was six when Donna woke up first, feeling his hardness pressing against her back, and she coaxed him into a shower. She used the excuse that they needed to get cleaned up, that she couldn't sleep anymore feeling sticky with the remnants of whipped cream between her thighs and her air. But really, she just wanted to fuck her husband in the shower.

And once again, he was more than happy to oblige.

"What's so funny?"

She's shaken out of her thoughts by his voice, and she turns to see her husband carrying a large silver tray, trying his best to balance it as he carried it over to the bed.

"You're wearing clothes," she pouts instead, watching him hopping on the bed, clad in his boxers and white shirt.

"I couldn't let Damon see me naked, now could we?"

"Damon?" She lifts up the silver tray's cover, and it's when the fresh aroma of waffles and omelets hits her, does she realize just how hungry she is.

"The bellboy, he brought us breakfast."

Donna hums, eyeing the tray like a hungry tigress eyeing the first meal of the day, "Damon would've gotten an eye full."

"Only you see the goods, huh?" He leans over to press a kiss on her cheek, could smell the scent of cherries from their earlier bathing adventures.

She nods through a mouthful of strawberry, pointing a finger in his direction, "And that's how it's going to be for the rest of our lives, mister."

He grins beside her, kissing her red-tinted lips. He groans upon tasting the sweetness from the strawberry and comes in for seconds.

"You know there's more on the plate, right?"

He smirks, "I like having my daily fruit intake via you instead."

She rolls her eyes, and she reaches for the coffee on the tray, moaning when the dark liquid meets her taste buds. "Have I mentioned how much I love you?"

Harvey chuckles, "I knew you'd wake up hungry, we didn't exactly have dinner last night."

"I don't know," she accepts the bite of syrup covered waffle he presents her, ignoring the highly domesticity of him feeding her food, "The whipped cream, chocolate strawberries, and champagne were very filling."

He snorts, "What about those extra calories you lost? I have to let my wife replenish with a nutritional breakfast."

"See? You take such good care of me," she sighs dramatically, leaning to give him one last kiss. They settle into an easy rhythm, eating in near silence as their hunger fully engulfs whatever other need they feel inside.

"God, that was amazing," Donna moans minutes later, pushing the plate off to the side, but not before reaching over to munch on a piece of bacon. She offers him the other half and he grins as he accepts it.

"You said that after the third time we had sex last night," Harvey states after munching on the breakfast meat, "Are you comparing the orgasm I gave you to a piece of waffle?"

"Yes."

They both let out a laugh, and it's freeing to know they can let their guards down completely, immerse themselves in this new, yet familiar, routine. What it means being together, being married, it's not all that different, but somehow, it's everything.

"Oh shit," Donna states after a minute, the thin sheet around her dropping slightly.

"What?" Harvey inquires, concerned by her sudden outburst.

"We don't have any clothes," she says with wide eyes, "I mean, we have our wedding clothes, but… I don't think I want to wear that today again," she scrunches up her nose.

"Who says we have to wear clothes at all?" When she sends him a look he laughs, "You don't have to worry about that, actually." He gets up, and she silently admires his ass as he walks away, opening up the closet on the right side of the room. He bends down, picking up a large duffle bag, "I also told Mike and Samantha to pack for us, just something for the following day."

Donna shakes her head, something akin to warmth rising up in her chest again, "You really thought of everything, didn't you?"

Harvey sets the bag down on the floor, walking over to climb on the bed, crawling his way toward her, "All for you baby, all for you."

He's about to give her a kiss when he feels a hand on his chest, lightly pushing him away, "Stop," she laughs, scrunching up her whole face as a wave of chuckles hits her, "that was terrible."

"What? You don't like baby?"

"Not now, not ever, Specter," she giggles.

He leans over her again, "How about just… Donna."

Her eyes soften, "Perfect." She lets him kiss her this time, tastes the maple syrup on his tongue, and the saltiness of the bacon on his lips.

"So, what are we doing today?" She asks after a moment.

Harvey shrugs, "Nothing. Anything. Whatever you want."

Donna bites her lip, almost in thought.

Harvey narrows his eyes, tilting his head in that way when he suspects she's thinking about something he knows he'll protest against, "What?"

"I- kind of want to see Louis at the hospital again."

"Seriously?"

"Well, not now," she reassures, a cat-like grin on her lips as she scoots closer to him, "I definitely want you all to myself for as long as I can."

"But tonight?" He raises his eyebrows, knowing her answer.

"I just miss Lucy," she bites her lip, sad eyes shining through and he knows he's a goner, won't even exercise the thought of telling her no.

"Do you have baby fever or something?"

His teasing smirk makes her smile, but she shakes her head, "No, I mean, maybe. But we're moving away soon, Harvey. And we're going to be her godparents. I just want to visit her again, for a little bit. Maybe get her a cute stuffed animal and Louis can tell her that her awesome aunt Donna bought it for her."

"Don't forget about her awesome uncle Harvey," he grins.

"Right," she laughs, her hand finding his in the sheets. "So, can we go?"

"Yeah," he tells her, softly kissing her lips, "we can go. For a little bit."

"Good." He leans over to kiss her again, simply because he wants to, because he can. Even after all the months of being together, he still couldn't shake off the feeling that she was his. After too many years of being apart, of feeling like he could never have her the way he wanted to, the way he always ended up denying because the possibility of never having her this close, or even getting to do so and then losing her, was too great of a fear for him to bear. But now, here she was, his wife. His always. He wanted to bottle up this feeling forever, but he had inkling it would never go away.

Donna parts after a moment, smiling against his lips, swollen and a little sticky from the syrup. She laughs.

"What? Do I have something on my face or something?"

She shakes her head, but nonetheless reaches up to wipe at the corner of his lips, "I just realized something."

"What? That we're married?" He grins, knowing she too was experiencing that overwhelming joy and disbelief he was as well, listened to her whispered thoughts and feelings on the matter in between rounds the night before.

"That," she drags out the word, pausing for a moment, "and… we share a wedding anniversary with Louis."

It takes everything in her not to burst into laughter when his eyes widen, mouth hanging open and skin paling.

"I-"

"Didn't think about that when you dropped to one knee at the wedding, did you?"

He shakes his head, eyes open and lost in thought as he stares off into space, "No, no I didn't."

She smiles at the memory, the moment she realized what he was doing hit her so hard her breath was nearly knocked out of her. She knew it was coming, but then he asked her to marry him that night, showed her the ring, and it was then that she had to remind herself to breathe, because the only thing she could focus on was him.

"What?" She playfully nudges him, finding perhaps too much joy in his slack-jawed state, "you want a divorce and then change our wedding date?"

That snaps him back into place, and his eyes meet hers in the morning light. She doesn't know what time it is, guesses it's closer to noon by the way the sun is shining in through the navy-blue curtains.

"Never," he nearly growls. He seems to leap into action then, hovering over her until she's fully lying back on the bed. "That is never ever going to happen."

She smiles up at him, trailing her hands over his chest to land behind his neck. "Never?"

He shakes his head, a look so soft on his face she feels like she could cry. She chastises herself mentally, blames their wedding bliss on the explosive emotions she keeps feeling.

"You and me? We're never going to be apart. Not again."

His lips crash onto hers once again, his tongue and teeth coming into play, setting her skin ablaze. She can't seem to fathom the time they weren't together. It seems so far in the past now, foreign and scary and frustrating. She's only known a life where she loves him, and deep down she knows she always did, even if she couldn't admit it. But now, with him in her arms, wedding ring on her finger, and a new title to boot, it's reassuring to know she won't ever know a life outside of him, outside of happiness.

…

AN: Let me know what you think :)