sunlight comes in the shades; harvey/donna; pg-13; 1,087 words;

a/n: this takes place in the same universe as casual conversations at night and swimming in the ocean

"Mommy, I made you breakfast."

Donna's eyes pop open in a panic, oh shit, and she sits upright from her side of the bed. She blinks a few times to clear her vision, her daughter's frame still a little blurry. She lightly shakes her head to see a big bowl of cereal barely in Evelyn's tiny hands and she releases a sigh of relief.

"Honey, you scared me," Donna mutters. Evelyn steps close enough for Donna to take the bowl and set it on the nightstand as she smiles her thanks. Her nerves are still shaking a little from the announcement but she steadies herself. "Thank you. Where's your dad?"

"I don't know," Evelyn answers with a firm shake of her head, her red hair bouncing on her shoulders, "I haven't seen him."

"Did he leave a note?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know much, do ya?" Donna asks with a laugh.

"Mommy," Evelyn whines in that same way she clearly learned from her father.

Donna's eyes widens as she looks at her daughter pointedly, "did you eat?"

"Yes, when I got out of the shower."

"Who's kid are you?" Donna retorts. "You're six."

"Daddy said last night that you weren't going to feel well this morning so I just wanted to check on you," Evelyn replies with a shrug.

Donna doesn't have the heart to tell Evelyn that her head is currently pounding because she had a little too much to drink with Rachel the night before when they went out to celebrate her graduating from Harvard. She offers her daughter a smile as her hand touches her head, suddenly aware of just how sharp the pain is. That's when she notices the ibuprofen and glass of water on the nightstand behind the bowl she set down; her husband is a godsend, at least he has his moments.

"I'm fine, baby," Donna says with a smile, "but thank you for taking care of me."

"Do you need anything else?"

"I think that I have everything I need."

"Just yell if you need me," Evelyn says before skipping out of the room.

No sooner than her eyes are closed again and she's curling into the mattress does she hear Harvey's voice in the other room. He shuffles into the bedroom and she peels her eyes open again just in time to see him pulling off his t-shirt. She smirks despite the pounding in her head.

"Hey, handsome," she greets gently.

He smirks, lightly shakes his head, "I was hoping that she'd let you sleep."

"She's sweet," Donna reasons.

He tosses his sweaty shirt into the bathroom, "I wonder where she gets that from."

"Me too," she admits teasingly. He kicks his sneakers off and the noise makes her flinch. Her heart beats in her head. "Babe, come on."

"Your head is pounding, I take it."

"And your beautiful daughter brought me breakfast that I can't even keep my eyes open to eat without wanting to throw up," she says as he rounds the bed. She rolls onto her back and looks up at him through slit eyes. "Go for a run?"

He tilts his head slightly as he drops his keys, phone, and wallet onto his own nightstand. "I've got a cure for your headache."

"Oh yeah?" She asks suggestively with a smirk. She covers her eyes with a hand to block the sun. "Do I have to open my eyes?"

"Not if you don't want to," he says. The weight shifts on the mattress and she pulls a face because he's sweaty and dirty and getting it on the sheets. His hand wraps around her wrist and he lifts her hand from her eyes, relieved to find that he's blocking the light with his body - damn these windows. "You don't have to do anything."

"Sex is not the cure for a hangover," she replies.

He smirks, "it's worked before."

"You sure you have enough energy for that?"

"Won't know if you won't try," he counters, sliding his fingers through the hair around her face.

She rolls her eyes and shifts her body towards his, rolling in to him and sliding her fingers down his side, "what if you can't even get it-"

He laughs when she stops talking, her hand cupping him, "you can say no."

"I'm sure that would bode well for our marriage," she jokes.

He shrugs, "we've gone through dry spells before."

"Your perception of a dry spell is very inaccurate in comparison to an actual dry spell."

His eyebrows furrow and his mouth twists in mock disgust, "if you don't want to have sex with me there's a much easier way to say so."

"I didn't say that," she mutters. Her fingers glide up his front and she pushes her hand over his rib cage. His skin is warm and clammy but makes her fingertips tingle. "I want to but my head is killing me."

"Hence the cure," he reminds her.

She drags her nails across his back just above the waistband of his shorts and it prompts him to arch his torso into hers. She smirks when he tosses her a glare, his lips parting in disbelief. His fingers wrap around her bicep like he's not sure if he wants to encourage the movement or not. His fingers are warm on her skin and her eyes close again to revel in the feeling.

"You don't look like you want to," he comments.

"Honey," she says sharply, voice turning into a whine, "there's a cold shower with your name on it."

"Ladies and gentlemen," he comments dryly to no one in particular, "the love of my life, the woman of my dreams, the beautiful and amazing Donna Paulsen."

"Specter," she corrects as he pulls away from her. The sunlight hits her eyes making her headache return in full force and she misses his warmth like they haven't been together for almost 8 years. Her fingernails dig into his shoulders before he can get too far away and he halts his movements, a slight red streak appearing on his chest. He looks at her over his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed accusingly. "But how sweet of you to remember my life before you."

"How can I forget? All of your suitors like to randomly appear at our front door," he replies.

"That was one time."

He smirks, "yeah, well, after that stunt, you're lucky I can't live without you."

"You bet your sweet ass I am," she replies with a smirk to match his.