Note: Back with more because the more Suits I watch, the deeper into the hole I get. I'm about to finish season 5 so apologies if anything seems off from canon, though it's really just newborn Paulsen-Specter baby fluff. Enjoy and cry about Harvey being the softest dad ever with me!

—

Harvey is speechless.

He can count on one hand the number of times he's been rendered speechless in his entire life. It's not easy to do. He prides himself in knowing just what to say and what to do in every situation.

And most of the times he's been at a loss, well... they've all involved Donna.

So it really shouldn't be any surprise that the birth of their daughter would leave him at a loss for words.

She is a small, squirmy, fussy little thing when she is first placed into his arms, just minutes after she arrived into the world.

Instantly the world caved in around him and was centered on the tiny bundle in his arms.

And it didn't scare him — he thinks now, in the quiet and the dark — it was like something clicked into place.

Throughout Donna's pregnancy he was plagued with fears and uncertainties about his ability to be a father. From what if she cries when I hold her to what if I leave the front door open, she crawls out, gets taken by some maniac or falls down the stairs. And the deeper, gnawing concerns, like not being there for her when she needs him the most. Not putting her first. The fear that he'll do something to screw this all up beyond repair, mostly. It's not as though he had a bright and shining childhood. Lord knows he'd never even thought about kids or starting a family before Donna. Panicking was an understatement.

Donna was always quick to assure him that he would be just fine — he's not his parents, he's not her parents, they are their own team and there's nothing they can't do together.

And Donna had her own fears, too, he knew, and it was a constant give and take of comfort and reassurances.

He has to be honest, there were times when he didn't believe her. When he didn't believe he was and ever would be ready to be a father.

But the second she was here...

He stares at his daughter's dozing face. Donna is out cold, has been for a few hours now, and he is grateful for it — he could see the exhaustion in her eyes and god, how did she do that? She gave him the greatest gift in the world and he doesn't know if he'll ever be able to repay her.

But he's remained in the same position since the nurse left for the night — on the dingy floor of the hospital room, slouched against the wall, softly stroking their daughter's soft wisps of hair, her arms, her little feet as she sleeps soundly in the bassinet. He counts all her fingers, and then all her toes, again and again. He can't get enough of her. He is mesmerized, and normally, that would scare the shit out of him. But there's an odd feeling of peace that surrounds him, and maybe it's the fact that it's the middle of the night and the only sounds he hears is Donna's quiet breathing, but he knows deep down it's because their baby is here, she is perfect, and the second he held her everything else just disappeared.

He would do anything for her. There is no question.

His legs are definitely cramping, and his back and his neck are stiff, but he can't bring himself to move. He wouldn't trade this for anything right now. Not even the biggest goddamn case win in the history of the world.

It's then he notices the wide blue eyes staring back at him.

"Hi, baby girl," he whispers, face breaking out into a smile. He traces her tiny hand with the tip of his finger. She's just so damn tiny. He can't get over the fact that he and Donna made this tiny person, fingers and toes and all.

She grips his index finger in her fist, and his heart clenches.

"If you're anything like your mom, I'm done for," he jokes, lump forming in his throat.

When Donna wakes the next morning to their baby's soft cries, she sees Harvey slumped on the floor, his hand still holding onto their daughter like she's the most precious thing in the universe, and her heart melts.