Prompt by Kristina ( fatedontknowyou): (Canon Darvey) First Christmas as a (married) couple; Donna teases Harvey about him being a terrible gift giver, trying to hide her disappointment about it; Harvey surprises her with a gift that surpasses all her expectations (object of some kind of sentimental value); any rating, but focus on domesticity/banter

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Donna hops onto the kitchen island, leaning closer to where Harvey stands, stirring the sauce to their spaghetti he's been cooking. It's a classified secret between only them that Donna is certainly not the chef in their relationship, that title being bestowed solely upon her husband. They may love their multiple times a week take out, but Harvey loves to treat her to a home cooked meal several times throughout the week as well. She inhales, a light moan coming out. "It smells amazing."

Harvey smiles, looking up to her with the lines around his eyes crinkling. "Thanks, you," he boasts, tapping the tip of her nose. It scrunches, giggling softly at her husband. They've been married just over a year, and she doesn't think she'll ever grow used to his sweet touches.

They spend the next few minutes laughing and talking together as Harvey finishes cooking their dinner. "I can't believe Christmas is in two weeks," he states, turning the burner down as he steps in between her legs. His hands land on her thighs, running up and down her jean clad thighs.

Smiling, she places her arms around his shoulders, hands meeting at the back of his head. Her fingers trail through his hair, his eyes closing at the sensation.

"I have a great gift for you this year," he announces, a proud, cocky smile blossoming on his lips.

She hates to admit it, but apprehension bubbles inside of her. Harvey has never been a great gift giver, "Oh," she stammers hesitantly, the fakest smile possible on her lips as her eyebrows raise to her hairline. Not even her best acting skills can cover up her uneasiness, "greaaaat." She curls her lip, causing him to chuckle. "You're oh so great at gift giving."

He rolls his eyes, smacking playfully at her legs as he takes a step back. She instantly misses his body heat, so she grips his t-shirt, pulling him back into her embrace again with a dramatic pout.

"Are you saying I suck at giving gifts?"

Her head tilts, deadpanning him with, "Harvey, I had to buy all of my own gifts for Secretaries Day, Christmas, birthdays… for over a decade." She chuckles, telling him (once again, she's ribbed him so many times in the past) that after their first year as a working duo, she'd decided they were both better off if she purchased her own gifts using his credit card. "You kind of suck at it," she sasses with a lift in her brow.

He snorts out a laugh, pressing his lips to hers. She gives one back to him, smiling into the kiss.

Pulling away, Harvey assures, "You're going to love this one. Don't worry."

"Mmmkay," she exaggerates, eyes narrowing in jest. "If you say so."

They smirk at one another, Donna caressing her hands over his chest as she lets him know that his gift may be good but, "Mine for you is even better."

"Is that so?" he tuts, eyebrows rising toward his hairline.

He smiles, shaking his head as he claims his is the best gift. She doesn't believe him, not in the slightest if history is anything to go by. Suddenly, an idea comes to her, knowing the gambler in him won't be able to resist. "Wanna bet?" she challenges.

"What did you have in mind?" he asks, that playful gleam he gets in his eyes when he's being playful growing.

Donna thinks for a second, saying, "At the firm function of the winner's choice, loser has to do whatever the winner wants."

Guffawing, Harvey accuses, "Oh, and you really think you're going to win this thing, huh? Not scared for a second that I'll make you streak naked through the firm."

"You wouldn't," she laughs, heading falling back, "and no, I'm not scared one bit because I know how you are at giving gifts, and how awesome I am… at everything." She smirks, shrugging a shoulder, fully convinced she had this one in the bag already.

Rolling his eyes, he scoffs out a laugh, "Fine," he asserts, bringing his hand up to shake with hers, sealing the terms of their agreement. "It's a deal. Shall I draw up the contract tomorrow?"

She grins, knowing her present is going to blow his out of the water. Donna wraps her hands around his neck again, bringing him closer as she busses her lips to his.

Deepening it, Donna runs her tongue along his lips, silently begging him to open his mouth. He does, of course, and their tongues mingle, sighs of pleasure breathed out between them.

Harvey's hands roam up her thighs, reaching to tug at the button on her jeans. She leans back with a naughty lift of her brow, letting him pop it open, his fingers wiggling the zipper down. The heat from his fingertips against her skin makes her shiver in anticipation. Donna bites down on her bottom lip, containing the smile growing, while she leans back on her palms, lifting her hips, allowing Harvey to shimmy her pants down her legs.

She sends a silent thanks out into the universe that she wore her comfy jeans this evening instead of her more fitted ones, making it easier to slide them off. "Harvey–mmm–the food is," she begins, pressing kisses to his skin in between each word, "going to," another kiss, this one to his jawline, "get cold."

His head raises, giving her a look at says Are you serious? before grinning wolfishly, swooping back in to suck at the pulse point on her neck. "We can heat it back up." She moans at the contact on her skin, hands tugging at his hair, trying to pull him impossibly close.

Harvey's lips trail from her neck to her jaw, then down further, kissing at the exposed skin of her collar. He groans, lifting her shirt up and off, admiring the black lace of her bra, before he licks a trail of sloppy kisses down the valley of her breast to her navel. His tongue swirls around her belly button, making her shiver. God, she loves how easily this man can turn her into a wanton pile of goo. She's panting already, knowing exactly what his destination is. His hands are already doing delicious things to her body, finger crooking into the side of her black thong, pulling it over far enough that he can slide a finger inside. Shit, that feels fucking fantastic.

"Fuck, you're wet already," he growls, nipping at her thigh.

She moans out a throaty giggle, nodding as she drags her nails against his shoulders.

"Should've taken these off with the pants," he mumbles to himself, causing her to chuckle breathlessly.

She lifts her hips again, allowing him the room to tug them down and off, tossing them onto the floor with the jeans. The marble countertop is cool against her skin, no matter how warm their apartment may be with the fire going, and it's a nice contrast to her heated skin, causes goosebumps to rise along her skin. Harvey bends down, kissing a path from her knee to where her thigh meets her most delectable parts.

He looks up to her, smirking before he drags his tongue from bottom to top, landing on her clit and attaching his lips. He sucks at her, drawing out a cry of bliss, her moan echoing throughout their kitchen. "Fuck, Harvey," she pants, one hand on his shoulder while the other splays through his hair, tugging him closer to her center where she's aching for his attention.

Her heels dig into his back as she writhes beneath him, crying out when his fingers find their way back to her folds, mingling and adding to the intense sensation his tongue is already providing. He's good, so fucking good, at making her feel like this, like she's about to combust.

Harvey inserts a second one, curling it deliciously at just the right spot, making her hiss in pleasure, ankles crossing as she squeezes her thighs around his face. "Har-vey," she stammers, knowing she's already close.

She can feel him smirk against her skin, that bastard, as his tongue licks up, down, up, down, trying out a side to side motion that well, quite frankly, feels fucking amazing. "Yes," she encourages, pulling at his shoulders, never wanting this feeling to end but knowing she's right on the edge of tumbling into the abyss of ecstasy. "keep doing that."

He does it again, tongue swirling around her clit as his fingers work further down. God yes, this is exactly what she needs. His fingers slip from inside her, coated in her wetness. He moans, the vibrations against her clit sending a jolt to her body, putting her closer to the edge of her climax than she already was. "Y-yes," she stammers, trying to catch her breath. God, he's so good with every part of his body, she can never choose her favorite. "So cl-close, babe, fuck." Harvey grabs at her thighs, and she can feel her own wetness on his fingers digging into her skin as he spreads her thighs further apart, nose pressing against her harder as his tongue works her up, up, up. She's right on the edge, can feel that tingly sensation in the pit of her stomach growing, traveling to every nerve ending in her body. Yessss, fuck, yes. "Harder, god, that feels amazing," she pants, hands reaching up to play with her own breasts. They're sensitive, nipples already hardened into taut peeks, but she rolls them between the pads of her fingers anyway, the sensitivity only adding to her pleasure.

Harvey pulls back, and what the fuck? Her eyes fly open, finding his as she scowls, asking him why he stopped. He chuckles darkly, hands caressing her thighs as she pulls them apart again, licking his lips as if he's just enjoyed the most delicious of meals, preparing for the next course. He leans up, pressing a quick kiss to her lips, letting her taste her own arousal, and, well, she never quite enjoys the taste of herself, but when mixed with Harvey's lips, she finds it's not so bad. He dives back in, more forceful this time, and God, yes, that's what she needs. She's so close, and she tells him so.

His tongue quickly finds that perfect spot once again, flicking and tasting, and shit, he's so good at this, her husband, always able to get her off in a hurry like this. It's been a useful skill for all those times she's wanted him in the office, or in the mornings when they overslept but she wanted him before work anyway. Those were her favorite kind of mornings.

He latches onto her clit, sucking and swirling his tongue, bringing her right to the edge. She calls out his name again, moans echoing throughout their kitchen, and she's once again thankful their apartment is the whole top floor of the building, no neighbors to worry about as he brings her to the peak of her euphoria. "Harvey!" she cries, thighs trembling around his face.

She clenches on his tongue, folds fluttering against him as his lips practically milk her for all she's worth while she comes on his tongue, groaning out. Donna can feel every inch of her skin tingling, the intensity of her climax making her body tremor against the kitchen counter. Her hands fall from her nipples, landing forcefully back onto the countertops, and she flops onto her elbows, sighing out. She's completely spent, limbs feeling like jelly as she stares down at her other half, watching as he licks his lips, biting down onto the bottom one as he looks at her with nothing but a combination of love and lust in his brown orbs. One hand flies to her forehead, pushing her sweaty hair back as she tries to catch her breath. "Wow," she breathes.

Harvey stands, licking his fingers as he laughs softly at her reaction. "That was a nice appetizer," he quips, leaning down to kiss her lips.

She sits up, swatting at his chest. "Don't be gross," she admonishes, but snickers nonetheless.

He bends, picking up her discarded clothing as he smirks over at her. Donna slips from the counter, pulling her thong back up her legs. "I'm going to go clean up before dinner," she giggles, kissing his lips, getting one more taste of their combined arousal, before scampering off toward their bedroom.

"Dinner is ready!" he calls as she hurries down the hall, wanting to slip into yoga pants to keep her legs warm.

"You're an idiot!" she laughs, going into the bedroom. She quickly runs a warm washcloth against her thighs, cleaning up the stickiness from their activities, then changes her underwear and puts on a pair of yoga pants and an oversized t-shirt before joining him again in the kitchen.

He's just finished fixing their plates when she gets back, smiling softly as she picks one off the counter, walking toward the table. "Thank you," she says, twirling the noodles and sauce around her fork.

"For dinner or…?"

Rolling her eyes, she grins, shaking her head at him. "You're an idiot."

They laugh together, enjoying their meal. The pair talk about going Christmas shopping tomorrow, and she smiles, glad they made the move back to New York just a few short months after giving Seattle a try. The Emerald City was nice, and it was amazing having Mike and Rachel by their sides, but there's just something magical about New York. It was their home, this city nurtured them and grew them into the adults they are today, so it only made sense that they'd come back.

"Though I won't be shopping for you," she says, taking a bite of spaghetti, "because, remember, I already have the best gift picked out. You're going down."

He laughs, taking a sip of his drink while shaking his head, bright eyes peering over at her around the rim of the glass. He swallows, wiping his hands on his napkin before placing his palms against the table, shoulder raising to his ears as he tries to look intimidating. "Oh, it's on," he growls, smiling as he settles back into his chair. "My present is definitely going to win."

She rolls her eyes playfully, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth as she thinks he may believe his present is good, but she knows her gift for him is a thousand times better.

—

"Merry Christmas," he mumbles sleepily, bringing their two mugs of vanilla coffee over to join Donna on the couch. It's their first together, like this, as a married couple, and it just started, but he already knows this is going to be his favorite holiday from here on out.

His wife smiles up at him, closing the book she's been reading and places it on the coffee table. She stands, walking over to their large Christmas tree. They'd had a blast decorating it weeks ago, Donna giggling the whole time while holiday tunes played from the Spotify playlist on his phone. They'd strung white lights around it, Donna claiming the colored ones were too juvenile for their first tree, and hung ornaments all around. It was topped by a beautiful star, one that glittered in the morning sunlight as it strewn through the windows of their condo and glistened at night, catching the reflection of the fairy lights on the tree. It was beautiful.

His favorite part was that the ornaments weren't just spheres of different colors but made into different objects–cartoon characters from their childhood, ornaments showing off landmarks in cities one or both of them had visited throughout the years, Christmas themed ones–it was all there. He thinks the colored lights wouldn't have been any more juvenile than the Minnie Mouse ornament she'd had since childhood, but he's not an idiot, so he won't point that little fact out. He loves their tree either way, white or colored lights, ornaments or no ornaments, it was special in and of itself because it was their first one together.

Donna digs through the pile of gifts still wrapped beneath the tree, grabbing a small bag and placing it on the coffee table. "Which one do you want me to open?" she asks, pointing toward the unopened presents. Some are for people at work, Donna wanting to wait until they go back after the holiday to deliver gifts to Louis, Samantha, Katrina and Alex, as well as Gretchen and other secretaries Donna is still friends with.

There were gifts for Marcus and his kids, they'd be going up there in a few days to visit, and a handful for Donna's mom, which would be delivered in the middle of January when they finally made it out to Connecticut to see her. It's been a few months since they last saw Clara, having gone down to visit and help clean out Jim's belongings once he passed away from a sudden diagnosis of stage four lung cancer that took him far faster than the doctors could have ever predicted. His death had been hard on Donna, but with the help of Harvey by her side, she was able to help her mom pack up his things that were no longer needed and donate them for a good cause.

"The little green one, over there," he replies, pointing her in the right direction.

Harvey smiles, watching as she giddily grabs the small gift bag, squealing like a kid seeing what Santa brought them. Donna sits down, taking a swig of her coffee and moaning when the warmth hits the back of her throat. "That's orgasmic," she murmurs, bringing her legs to sit criss cross on the couch facing him.

Grinning, he says, "Well hopefully I have more skill than a cup of decaf coffee."

Her head tilts to the side and her eyes narrow, as if contemplating her answer, before she breaks out into a fit of giggles, assuring him he definitely does.

Shaking his head, he reaches out to the coffee table, picking up the green bag and handing it to her. "Here, you go first."

Smiling, Donna pulls out the red tissue paper, peeking inside. Her hand stills, eyes watering as they make contact with his. "Is... is this?" she asks, breathing his name out in wonderment. "Harvey…"

A small smile graces his lips, almost sheepishly, when he sees how affected she is by the gift. "Take it out, look at it," he encourages, patting her knee. He sets his coffee down, wanting to be fully engaged when she removes the contents of the bag.

She bites her lip excitedly, reaching in and removing a small wooden train, painted in reds and greens. There's a retro Santa Claus conducting, while a snowman and a reindeer sit perched in one of the two train cars, snowflakes adorning the sides. A tear slips from her eye as she looks up to him. "My dad's Christmas train."

Harvey nods, knowing she always loved this toy growing up. Clara had found it when they were there last month, telling him all about how Donna and Jim had spent hours each year playing with the train, moving it from one counter to the next, then the floor, dragging it around the skirt of the Christmas tree before letting it rest atop their piano. She always made sure to wrap it up securely when putting away her Christmas decorations, knowing if any part of it ever broke, both father and daughter would be devastated.

"Where did you get this?" she asks, eyes welling with more tears. She tells him around a lump in her throat that it was her favorite holiday trinket her mom would use to decorate for Christmas each year, and he sweetly nods, while shrugging, saying her mother had informed him of all of that when she gave it to him. "When?"

"When we were there last month helping her clean out his things."

It's been over a month since her dad passed away, and she sniffles, clearly trying to contain the swell of emotions he can see swirling through her eyes. She brings the little train up to her chest, hugging it to her as if it were her father, and his heart breaks for her, knowing all too well what it feels like to lose a parent. "Thank you, Harvey," she whispers tearfully.

She leans over, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "I love you," she sniffles, smiling tearfully over at him.

His face softens, a faint smile tilting the corners of his mouth up. "I love you, too." Harvey's eyes move over to the train, then back to her, a smug smile forming. Bet or no bet, he's pretty damn proud of himself for surprising his wife with a gift that brought tears to her eyes. She's always been so hard to surprise with anything, their wedding being just about the only one he's ever pulled over on her, so this felt really good. He loves her, loves seeing her face light up in astonishment when he does things like this for her.

"That was pretty good, I have to admit," she relents with a wet chuckle, clearing her throat and wiping the tears from her cheeks. He smirks, knowing full well that he's won this competition. Nothing she can give him will out shine the beloved Christmas train.

Donna uncrosses her legs, reaching out to the table to grab the small blue and snowflake bag. "Now it's my turn," she says, eyebrows bouncing in excitement.

Smiling, she lifts his present off of the coffee table, biting down on her lip gleefully as she hands it to him. She's so cute, and animated, he can't help but smile right along with her.

Reaching into the bag, he removes the tissue paper, then pulls out a miniature stocking. He gives her a confused look, glancing back to the gift. "It's… a stocking."

Donna rolls her eyes, swatting at his pajama clad thigh. "Do you notice anything about it?"

He studies it for a moment, eyes trailing over to their fireplace where their larger stockings hang. "Um," he stumbles, looking back to her. "It's… small?"

She rolls her eyes again, asking him what else he notices. Peering back at the tiny stocking, he realizes it's the same design as theirs–green sweater material with red lining at the top, their names embroidered in white cursive, though this one does not. "It matches ours."

Donna nods happily, clasping her hands together and resting her chin on her linked fingers. It takes him a moment to connect the dots, but then a metaphorical light bulb goes off, his face brightening. "Wait, Donna," he breathes, looking between the three stockings once again. "Are you…?"

"Look inside," she giggles, rocking back and forth in merriment.

His hand reaches in, feeling a tiny, glossy photograph. He pulls it out, eyes widening when he realizes it's a sonogram. Tears well in his eyes as he looks back at his wife. "Are you really?"

Donna nods happily, saying she found out the other week and wanted to tell him so badly, but she wanted to give him the perfect Christmas present, so she waited. "Took me almost two weeks to find the stocking anyway!"

He smiles, the look in his eyes brighter than any of the lights on the tree as he leans in, pressing his lips to hers. He's never been this happy. He thought true happiness was what he felt the day he asked Donna to marry him (and she did, that very same day), but this… this is more than he ever imagined. Having kids, starting a family, it's all he's ever, secretly, wanted with her.

He pulls back, hand coming to rest gingerly against her still flat tummy, a look of awe on his face.

"There's more," she says, a sneaky little gleam in her eye.

Harvey's head tilts, "More?" As if anything else could be better than this.

She snickers, eyes roaming to his almost empty coffee mug. "Look in there."

Narrowing his eyes, he picks up the mug, which he's only just now realizing he's never seen before. Lifting it to his lips, he takes the last big gulp before peering in. At the bottom, written in white cursive against the light gray porcelain of the cup, reads You're Going to be a Dad!

A wide smile breaks out onto his face, looking back to Donna. "New favorite coffee cup." He leans in, kissing the smile from her lips.

"Told you my present would be better," she laughs, tears silently falling onto her cheeks.

Harvey laughs, looking to the train on the table that once belonged to her father. "I don't know," he objects, a lump growing in his throat as he glances down at the sonogram once again. "I'd say they were equally as good."

Donna shakes her head, wiping the tears off her cheek, then reaches over to wipe one off of his.

"Nuh-uh," she challenges with a giggle, "you just don't want to see what I'll make you do at the firm's next big function."

He laughs, pressing his lips to hers again, an action he can't seem to get enough of this Christmas morning. "You're right," he relents, touching her stomach again. "But you wouldn't want to embarrass the father of your child, now, would you?"

She pretends to think long and hard about that, a dramatic Mmmm humming out of her. Donna snorts out a laugh, taking the sonogram from him and placing it next to the toy train. "Oh, I definitely would." She scoots closer to him on the couch, legs falling over his. "Guess you'll just have to wait and see what I make you do."

He groans, arm wrapping around her shoulders. They stay there for a while, feet resting on the coffee table in front of them as the fire warms their skin, watching the snow fall outside the window while they discuss their baby and plans to turn the spare bedroom into a nursery. Donna pulls out her phone, scrolling through Pinterest and showing Harvey ideas she's already started to brainstorm.

"I was thinking, maybe, that your mom's painting might look cute in the nursery," she says, eyes glancing over to where the duck currently resides above their fireplace.

Smiling, he kisses the top of her head. "That would be perfect." He smiles down at her. "And just think," he muses, "This time next year, we'll have a little baby to celebrate with."

Her face lights up, a giddy bubble of laughter escaping as she talks about Santa and baking cookies and all the Christmas movies they'll watch, and as she lists off more and more family traditions they can make with their child, he can't help but think how much better the holiday will be from now on.

—

Donna walks into the nursery, reaching up to adjust her father's toy train that rests on the shelf in Madison's room. She'd placed it there a few weeks ago while decorating for Christmas, and she smiles to herself, knowing this train will be a yearly tradition with her own child now.

Her eyes trail over to the picture frames resting beside the train. The first one has a photograph taken of their daughter the day she was born, all rosy cheeked and wrapped in a teal and pink blanket with a giant teal bow on her head. Engraved at the bottom of the frame, it reads Madison Lily Specter, July 26, 2021. Donna loves to look at it from time to time, always enjoying comparing what Maddie looked like then to how chubby and cute she is now.

The other frame, a light blue one with pink and green flowers on it, is one of her favorites. It was taken about two months ago, their daughter was just three months old then but adorable as ever. The three of them were at a company picnic, dressed in casual attire, Harvey even sporting jeans for the event. They were sitting on a blanket, Maddie in Donna's lap as she recovered from laughing so hard at Harvey making a fool of himself, having to do an overly dramatic reading of a monologue from The Merchant of Venus. He'd finally given in, six months into her pregnancy, claiming that she officially won the bet, knowing nothing could ever top announcing she was going to have his child.

He'd just gotten back to the blanket, head hanging in embarrassment, and Donna was trying to make him feel better, assuring him that no one truly paid much attention (except Louis) and he was a good sport for holding up his end of the bargain. He'd looked up at her in that moment, smiling as he leaned in to kiss her lips, taking hold of her scarf as he brought her closer to him. Pulling apart, he ducked down, pressing a kiss to Maddie's beanie covered head. Louis snapped the picture right as Harvey looked back to her, their eyes connected with one another's like always, soft smiles playing on their lips as Maddie looked toward her Uncle Louis with a giant toothless grin on her pudgy little face. The fall leaves covered the ground, and the sun was golden in the sky behind them. It was a beautiful embodiment of the happiness she feels with her family every single day.

It was candid, but it was beautiful, Donna swearing Louis was in charge of photography at all family functions from then on.

Her eyes flit from the photograph to the real life thing, watching as Harvey rocks their five month old to sleep. He's changed her into her second pair of Christmas pajamas of the day, this pair covered in red and white stripes while trimmed in green, the feet designed to look like little reindeer. There was a reindeer on her belly and My First Christmas written in the corner. It was adorable; Donna hadn't been able to help herself, buying multiple pairs of Christmas outfits for the day, knowing that her daughter would inevitably go through a few today as well as a few at each family get together they attended for the holiday season. She was just prepared, that's all.

Maddie had experienced a busy morning, waking up early to be fed, then watching in curiosity as Harvey and Donna talked her through each present she was being shown from Santa Claus. They'd placed her down on one of her play mats, handing her new toy after new toy, watching with giddy smiles as she reached for each one, most ending up in her mouth before they showed her the next one.

She was obviously a little too young to understand what was happening, but Donna enjoyed it nonetheless, watching her little brown eyes light up like Harvey's do when he's excited, reaching her chubby hands out for the next gift, and cooing happily at the lights and sounds each new object made.

Their apartment was definitely completely different from their first as a married couple, toys strewn about, each one humming a different song, cartoons playing on the television, and more presents under the tree than Donna has ever seen before, but she wouldn't change it for anything.

She leans against the doorway, eyes closing as she listens to Harvey hum to their baby girl. Donna smiles when she realizes he's singing Jingle Bells, keeping Madison in the holiday spirit, she sees.

She opens her hazel eyes, instantly meeting Harvey's across the way. "Hey, you," he says softly, standing from the glider rocker.

Donna moves toward her two favorite people, meeting him halfway into the nursery. They stand in front of Maddie's crib, Donna reaching up to caress her tufts of dirty blonde hair.

She giggles quietly, still amazed she birthed a blonde baby, being fully convinced her whole pregnancy that their daughter would come out with red hair like hers. She's still not so sure it'll stay blonde, telling Harvey whenever she can that Maddie won't look like his mini-me forever, she'll eventually start to transform into a tiny Donna once her hair turns red. Her husband always smiles at that, claiming he'd be the luckiest man in the world if Maddie ended up looking like her, which always makes her blush and roll her eyes, loving that he's such a sap when it's just the two of them.

"She's out like a light," he chuckles, kissing the top of Maddie's head. "All that excitement this morning wore her out, I guess."

Donna snickers, agreeing. "It's hard work laying there while your parents act like idiots showing off all your new toys and clothes to you."

Smirking, Harvey sets the baby down in her crib, rubbing her little belly before turning to face Donna. "I still can't believe she's here."

"I know," Donna breathes, smiling down at their sleeping girl. "She's so beautiful."

Harvey nods, taking her hand in his and leading her from the room. He guides them toward the living room, sitting on the couch and wrapping his arms around her. She smiles into the embrace, snuggling against his chest as he hits play on the Christmas movie they'd paused earlier when Maddison got hungry.

Smiling, Donna listens as Kevin McCalister threatens the bad guys, laughing when he lights the rope on fire. She looks up to Harvey, watching as his eyes close, his head bobbing down, then his eyes popping back open, trying his hardest to stay awake.

She chuckles, cupping his cheek. "Why don't we go nap while Maddie is sleeping, hm?"

Donna presses a kiss to his cheek, but Harvey shakes his head, grumbling sleepily, "Wanna watch the movie with you."

Rolling her eyes, she tells him it's practically over. She wraps her arm around his middle, patting his belly. "Come on," she whispers huskily into his ear, trailing her tongue along his earlobe. "You can open your next Christmas present," she purrs, pulling at the silk robe that covers her Christmas pajamas.

Harvey instantly perks up, all traces of sleep gone from his eyes, and she sniggers at how easily he can be persuaded sometimes (all the time). "Mm," he hums, "And I didn't get you anything this year… except what you picked out."

"Oh," she chuckles, brows raising toward her hairline. "That's quite alright. I figure one good present in fifteen years last year was pushing my luck anyway."

Harvey snorts, shaking his head as Donna stands with a giggle, reaching out her hand for him to take.

Smiling, he reaches out, standing to press a kiss to her lips. And with that, he links his hand with hers, letting her drag him down the hall, both spending the next few hours wrapped in each other's warmth enjoying the best Christmas they've both ever had.