Many thanks to Aditi for helping me through the tough bits and making sure I got this out in time. Love you, darling.

There are a million things she loves about Harvey Specter. Some of them are small- his smile, the way he cocks his head at her before he leans in for a kiss, the way he traces her freckles at first light. Some are bigger- his dedication to his friends, his sense of loyalty, the vastness of his heart. Some are silly- the way he worries about his hair in the morning and how he stays clean-shaven no matter how much he complains about how he hates shaving and even the way he ties his shoes.

Every day there is something new to love about him, but she thinks seeing him as a father might be her favourite. It's been six weeks and she knows it's still new, but it's certainly something she hopes she never gets used to. There's something extra sweet in his fatherhood, and she can't quite pin it down.

It's in the way he hovers over Marcus when he holds his new niece, worried despite the fact that the evidence of his infant-holding abilities are both leaning over the bundle in his arms. It's in how gentle he is with teaching his niece and nephew how to hold their new cousin, showing them what she likes and what she doesn't, answering their questions with all the weight he normally reserves for court.

It's in the way he leaps at the chance to spend time with their child, even if that means walking the floor at 2am when she won't settle after a feed. It's in every diaper change and bath, every show he sits and watches with them while she nurses, every cup of tea and snack he fetches for her while she is anchored to the couch with a baby at her breast. It's in the way he can't keep his eyes off her as she grunts and snores in her sleep, watching smiles and frowns cross her face as he nudges her little hand with his thumb. They both know it's just a reflex that makes her grip his thumb so tightly, but it doesn't stop the grin on his face.

Right now, it's in the way he's holding her in his arms like she is the most precious thing in his life, swaying back and forth to a slow rhythm. And though she's never heard him sing, he's humming something vaguely familiar as he gradually rocks them across the floor.

Donna would almost be jealous if the other woman in his life wasn't their daughter.

"You know," he says suddenly, "I was afraid I wouldn't love you right away."

Sensing this isn't for her ears but unable to stop herself, Donna steps away from the door and out of sight should he turn them around. She's never heard him voice this fear before.

"But that didn't turn out to be a problem. I think the problem is I love you too much." He hums what she starts to recognize as one of his father's songs and sways with their daughter. "I'm afraid all the time now. Afraid of what could happen to you in this big world. Afraid of holding on too tightly, or not tightly enough. I pushed your mother away for years because I was afraid, and I don't want to do that to you. But I don't want to keep you from growing, either."

They turn toward the door and Donna can see the baby blinking up at him, flailing her arms at the sound of his voice. She loves his voice, and Donna can't blame her. It's soothing, and warm, and so distinctly Harvey in ways she can't put into words.

"I worry a lot, too," he says softly. "My parents messed me up, and I'm worried about what that means for me and you. I don't want to do to you what they did to me. I want you to have better. I never want you to doubt the way I did. The way I do." The baby coos as if in understanding, and he smiles at her. "I guess that's what we have Mom for, huh? She'll keep me honest. Always does."

He starts swaying again, moving them toward the window of the nursery, and Donna makes enough noise for him to know she's there. She moves up behind him and puts a hand on his back as she leans against his arm.

"How's it going? She behaving for you?"

Harvey smiles. "Yeah, we were just having some bonding time."

Donna looks up at him. "Hmm. She's a good listener."

His ears redden slightly, which is another thing to tuck away in her mental file of 'things to love about Harvey'. "You heard?"

"I did. And I know that those fears and worries are exactly what makes you an excellent father." She squeezed his bicep, enjoying the feel of the muscles beneath her hand. "I talk to her, too, you know."

He looks at her in surprise. "You do?"

She nods. "Like I said, she's a good listener."

The baby flails again, cooing happily at having both of them there. And suddenly, like the sun coming out from behind the clouds on a rainy day, she smiles. A real smile, cheeks rounding as the corners of her mouth lifted up to expose little pink gums. She kicks her feet in triumph to their dumbfounded expressions.

"Did she just-"

Donna grinned. "I think she did."

"I thought that wasn't supposed to happen for another couple of weeks!" Harvey looks as though all his careful preparation had betrayed him.

"It's not, but since when would you expect a child of ours to be average?" She traces a finger down her daughter's nose, and elicits another smile. She leans up to place a kiss on Harvey's cheek, now bent in his own smile.

"Happy Father's Day, Harvey."