A/N: I should start this by saying I do not, in fact, have the slightest clue on how to play a piano. But I'm a great admirer. So please don't focus on technicalities in case I got some stuff all wrong :P Story is probably a strong T - if no one likes M rated stuff, you can skip the second section. Won't make a huge difference to the story, I think haha Anyway - hope you guys like it!

High Notes

He bought her a piano for their anniversary.

They had quite a few of those, actually — anniversaries. But this one was for their first anniversary as a couple. They had been married for just about three months then, marking one year into their relationship, and nearly fifteen of knowing each other. He knew about the piano lessons she had had to drop in high school because of the move from Cortland to Connecticut, and she always remembered fondly of those. The piano was white, like the one she used to have, and even though it might have been completely out of place in his condo before, it worked surprisingly well when mixed with his and Donna's furniture, together.

And Harvey might not be an artistic man, but he appreciated music a lot. There was no doubt she was the creative one out of the two of them.

"I can't believe you bought this," Donna said when they arrived home from work one Friday night to see the piano perfectly set where his lounging chair used to be. "I doubt I still know how to play."

"Give it a try," Harvey insisted, and she sat down carefully, handbag already put away on the kitchen counter. In her excitement she only took off her shoes when she was sitting down, and he knew for a fact they had been bothering her for at least six hours.

She gave him a look — the soft, teasing kind, the kind that told him he didn't have to do this but she was grateful all the same. He watched as she ran her fingers through the keys and she smiled at the sound they created. She started playing slowly, and didn't bother looking for any notes — choosing instead one she clearly knew by heart. Harvey leaned against the piano for a moment, just watching — the way she bit her lip as she played and the notes were slow but quickly forming a song. He knew this one; Beethoven. Which one — he wasn't sure.

She missed a key and cringed, laughing afterwards and stopping altogether. Harvey laughed too. She sat there, admiring the new gift, and he moved towards the kitchen, grabbing two glasses and selecting one of her favorite wines.

"So, you like it?" He poured wine into each glass. Normally he'd have gone for scotch but he knew Donna preferred wine at home.

She sprawled her hands on the piano, and he knew she was smiling even before she looked over her shoulder.

"I love it," Donna told him.

The last time he had seen her sitting by a piano she had been accompanied by another man, and felt so far away from him he had almost believed he would lose her then. He couldn't help himself when he abandoned glasses and bottle on the counter and walked towards her instead, leaning down to press his lips against her neck and breathe in her scent.

"I'm glad you do. You know me, only the best for my lady."

Donna laughed then, hand reaching out to touch his jaw and then his hair. He kissed her neck one more time then pulled away. He grabbed the glasses from the counter and handed one to her — they clicked the glasses together and each took a sip.

"You gonna tell me how you got this thing up here?"

She gave him a look. Harvey smiled.

"I have my ways."

She left it at that, simply laughing at his antics — since she could get away with some stuff, he supposed he could too — and it was just his luck he had a lot of clients who could help with this. Donna took another sip of the wine, then looked at the piano once more, a content look on her face.

"You wanna play some more?" Harvey asked, and she gave him her glass to hold, sat up straight and flashed him a determined look.

"Okay. Are you ready?" Donna asked, fingers positioned on the keyboard. "You better be ready, because this is a masterpiece."

"Hit me up, baby."

And then…

Happy birthday to you started.

Harvey tried very hard to stay serious, but he lasted about ten seconds into the song — right the amount of time Donna did, and they both stayed there — she sitting in front of the piano, him leaning against it — laughing.

Donna cringed after a moment.

"I really need to practice. This is about all I can remember without messing it up."

Harvey shook his head. "Hey, you do you. Even if you don't play it looks pretty good in here."

She took her glass back from him. "It does, doesn't it?" She let out a sigh. "I loved playing. It'll be fun to be able to do it more often."

"I look forward to listening."

"I'm gonna look up some songs to serenade you with," Donna suggested.

"You planning to seduce me, Mrs. Specter?" He rested his glass on the piano, hands moving to her waist on their own accord.

"Bold of you to say I need to serenade you to seduce you, Mr. Specter," she said innocently, eyes widening at him, just the way he liked best. He leaned in to kiss her, but her free hand on his chest prevented him from getting close. "No glasses on my piano, mister."

"Damn. Marriage changed you," Harvey teased, but obeyed and took his glass back.

She ran her fingers through his neck, ever so slightly pressing her nails against his skin. "You've seen nothing yet."

Sometimes it really was a matter of finding the nearest flat surface and the piano was the first one they came across when arriving at the apartment.

They didn't even mind that the keys of the piano echoed in the otherwise empty condo when Donna leaned against it. They briefly exchanged a chuckle against each other's lips, and he tried to lift up the skirt of her dress, wanting to feel more of her. She knew how much he loved that dress — in fact, he was pretty sure that in the other occasions the dress had been worn, the outcome had been the same. One time even in his office. It was black, fit her like it was made for her body, and the cleavage just drove him insane. It didn't help that she was in and out of his office several times today, and he couldn't help but stare at her backside every time she turned around.

But the dress was just the right side of tight, and he knew he wouldn't get much done without unzipping it. Still, he managed to slip his hand up just enough to make her moan.

"Now's not the time to tease, Harvey," Donna complained, her tone dropping just a little when she said his name in a breathy way.

Sex with Donna was always interesting because she could be very hands on — literally and figuratively — and they both had a knack for knowing what the other wanted when they didn't even know they wanted it. So he took his hand away and turned her around quickly, making her gasp when he kept his lips on her neck and one of his hands on her breast. He quickly unzipped the dress — the zipper was tantalizing from the middle of her back to the hem of the dress and before long he was pushing the sleeves of the dress down her arms and Donna was turning around, dress falling to the floor and she was taking off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt while he slipped the jacket off his shoulders.

They ended up with her sat on the keys of the piano, still wearing her underwear and her heels, and him buried deep inside her, still wearing his shirt and with his pants around his ankles. It was fast and raw, the way he thrusted into her, one hand at her waist and the other massaging her breast. She kept her hands on his shoulders, and it was only when she let him go that he knew she was close. She pressed her hands against the piano, mouth half open, and he really didn't think he had ever seen a more beautiful sight than this.

He spilled inside her and she grabbed his face to kiss him — once, twice, three times, each time more intense than the other. He remained inside for a few minutes, savoring in the taste of her and the way she made him feel, and her kisses slowly subsided to gentle pecks.

"I've wanted to do this since I saw this piano," Donna whispered after a moment, a slow smile on her lips.

"You mean three days ago?" Harvey asked her teasingly.

She let out a deep breath, still trying to recover. "Don't pretend you didn't want to."

"You didn't let me put a glass on it, I wasn't sure you'd want this," He lightheartedly complained, now slipping out of her. Donna was already standing up the next second, hands still on his shoulders for support.

"What can I say, I have priorities," she told him slowly, and he couldn't help but embrace her again, his hands resting against her backside and caressing her there.

"I've always liked your priorities," he said against her lips. "I love that dress, by the way."

"I know," Donna breathed, winking at him. "Why do you think I wore it today?"

She let him go, and he watched as she walked around the condo as if it was her personal catwalk, his mouth watering as if he hadn't been inside her just five minutes ago. She slipped off her heels and looked at him over her shoulder.

"I was thinking a shower and some Thai food later?" Donna asked.

He pulled up his pants and followed her path to the bedroom.

"Thai food?" He repeated, just to keep the tradition of mocking her for her tastes.

Donna was already taking off her bra. "Well, I was gonna let you join me in the shower…"

Just the vision of the sides of her breasts was enough to sell him on the Thai food. Not that he really would have refused her otherwise.

"Thai food sounds amazing," Harvey quickly said, slipping his shirt off and smiling when he heard her laughter from the bathroom.

He knew the piano would be a fine addition to the household.

It turned out Donna was pretty damn good at playing. Weeks after that first night, she was just killing it — Harvey might not be a musician to know that, but his father had been one, and he knew good music when he heard it. Not for the hundredth time, or the last one, he cursed Jim Paulsen for having lost the family's money and the chance of giving Donna the life she had dreamed of — one where she could have gone to the university she had wanted to, or followed the career she had wanted since she was a little girl.

He was glad Jim accepted him. And he respected the man, because Donna loved him. Didn't mean he couldn't curse him inwardly every now and then. Maybe she'd have become a pianist instead.

He told her this one evening, as she played Debussy on the piano and he drank his scotch, the New York skyline fading in comparison to the ease with which Donna played.

She laughed, though.

"I wouldn't have. I can follow the notes but I'm too slow," she said, and he knew she was trying to keep it simple because Donna never downplayed her abilities — which could only mean the piano had meant a lot to her. She met his eye, but returned her attention to the instrument before long. "Besides, I never would have met you if I hadn't been a failing actress turned secretary."

"Now that's just bullshit," Harvey rolled his eyes. "We would have met."

Donna kept playing, a slow smile gracing her lips as she looked down.

"What?" Harvey asked when she remained silent.

She stopped playing, and gave him a look. "Maybe we would have met. You would have hit on me instantly, maybe I'd have welcomed it, and we would have had one night and parted ways forever."

Harvey shook his head. "I disagree."

She gave him a challenging look.

"Well, excuse me for wanting to believe we would have found each other," he drank the rest of his scotch.

Donna stood up. "Harvey Specter believing in fate. Never thought I'd hear that."

"Don't even start it."

"Do you ride a white horse in this scenario? Am I stuck in a loveless relationship and you save me eventually?" She laughed just as she finished that sentence, stopping to stand in front of him. He laughed too. "I like where I am right now. I wouldn't change a thing. You know that, right?"

Harvey nodded, and she stepped closer, arms enclosing around his frame. He accepted the hug instantly, still plagued by the many memories of all the years behind them where they couldn't even do this. He rested his cheek against her head and sighed.

"We lost so much time."

His voice was quiet, but Donna heard it, for sure. She pulled away slightly, eyes staring right back into his.

"We wasted some time, yes. But we didn't lose it," she told him. "We've been together for fifteen years, Harvey. You're my best friend. I wouldn't change anything, because it got us here."

He didn't consider himself a particularly religious man, but thank God for her. Always knowing exactly the right thing to say. He pressed his lips against her forehead.

"I mean, you were an idiot most of the time," she said softly, in that teasing but lovable tone, "but I was never my brightest self when it came to you."

"Takes two to not tango, in our case."

"Yeah. And you're my idiot now, so," Donna sighed and gave him a smile. "All good."

He kissed her again, just because he could.

It became something of a habit — if they had a late night at the office, they'd listen to his dad's records, as per usual. But if they were at home, and Donna felt like it, she'd be playing. Sometimes Harvey made dinner while she tried to learn a new song, sometimes he helped her choose what was next in her repertory, sometimes he'd simply order takeout and watch and listen.

She took to bringing modern songs into the place — pop songs most of the time, some he knew of and others he didn't even like the original version, only her instrumental one. Beyoncé and Lady Gaga were popular choices. Soundtracks happened every so often too — and Harvey vowed to himself he'd never watch A Star Is Born again since Donna became obsessed with the songs and would sing along playing — and he would too, and the truth was that neither of them were brilliant singers.

It wasn't rare for Harvey to come home late and find her googling some new song on her phone, so he thought nothing of it when he saw her sitting on the couch, bare feet and wearing yoga pants and that silky top he liked a lot on her. What did surprise him was dinner ready in the oven and the impressive decoration on the table. As far as he knew, they weren't expecting anyone and it wasn't often that Donna cooked on her own.

"Lasagna?" He asked upon a quick inspection.

Donna smiled at him from her spot on the couch.

"I'm dying for some Italian food," she confessed. "Your mother's recipe."

Harvey arched his eyebrows. "You called her?"

Donna hummed. "I asked for the chicken parm recipe you love so much, but settled for lasagna instead. You'll get your chicken parm next time I'm inspired, I promise."

He laughed and walked over to her, taking off his jacket in the meantime. He gave her a rather loud kiss on the lips and asked if there would be time for a quick shower, to which Donna consented. By the time he got back, freshly showered and wearing more comfortable clothes, Donna was checking the lasagna; a quick look told him it didn't exactly look beautiful, but he and Donna always settled for tasty instead of pretty — they went to fancy restaurants for the opposite.

"Smells good," he commented as he approached her.

"Just a few more minutes," she closed the oven and turned around to look at him. She narrowed her eyes when she noticed his unwavering eyes. "What?"

"What's the catch?" Harvey asked, but Donna kept staring at him blankly. "You're cooking, the fancier cutleries are on the table. Did I forget one of our anniversaries?"

Donna rolled her eyes. "No."

"And we've talked about Secretary's Day…"

"Okay, I haven't gotten a gift for that in at least two years, I don't know why you keep holding that over my head," Donna defended herself. He glared at her. "Fine, more like one year. It will be one year this year! And technically…"

"You haven't been my secretary in three years, no technicalities."

"Fine. But there's no COO Day. I find that illogical."

"Because Secretary's Day is very logical," Harvey said. "Come on. What am I missing?"

"Nothing. Seriously," she assured him. "I'll just settle our glasses on the table."

She filled the glasses with water, and Harvey moved to choose a wine from their selection; he settled for an Italian one, to match the mood. He made quick work of opening the bottle and filled two glasses before taking them to the table — where Donna was now leaning against, checking her phone once more. He couldn't help but take a look at the screen.

"Disney songs? Really?" he made a face. Not that he didn't like Disney soundtracks, but he'd rather not have to listen to Let It Go for days until Donna knew the whole thing. His niece still had Frozen fever and it had been years.

"I thought I'd try something new," Donna shrugged, sounding sheepish. "There are some beautiful songs."

"I always liked the one from The Lion King. The villain one."

She snorted. "Of course you would. That's so dramatic," she gave him a fond smile. "I was thinking something more childish, though."

"Hakuna Matata?"

She laughed. "More like… A Wish Upon a Star. Or the Cinderella one."

Harvey cringed. "That's for babies."

"Okay, that's a classic."

"Pinocchio is kind of boring. So is Cinderella."

"Both, classics," Donna continued, a pointed look in his direction. "And I'm looking for… calmer songs. For children. We may have some use for them soon."

That got his attention.

"What?"

She was looking at him with those wide eyes, and he found himself falling in love with her all over again. With her loving Pinocchio and all. And just as she nodded and a smile graced her features, he embraced her, pressing his lips against her hair, face and neck.

"You're sure?" he asked as he pulled away slightly. They hadn't been trying for that long — he hadn't expected it to happen right away, and after Donna had no news for two months… he thought it would be best not to worry too much.

Donna nodded. "I haven't taken a test yet, but I'm pretty sure."

"Pretty sure or Donna sure?" he asked again.

She let out a laugh. "I'm Donna. Take that whatever the way you like."

He kissed her again. "You let me open a bottle of wine and pour us both a glass," he complained against her lips. Donna laughed again — it was the best sound he had ever heard.

"You know how much I like suspense," she told him. "I was gonna tell you over dinner, but you had to snoop around."

"Guilty as charged," Harvey admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "When do we take the test?"

"Whenever you want. I wanted us to check the result together."

But of course she wasn't surprised when he coaxed her into taking the test now — even though she didn't really feel like peeing — and less than ten minutes later they were both staring at the blue stick, together — the word 'PREGNANT' stuck in their brains now. One side of the lasagna ended up getting a little burned, and the bottle of wine was still half full when they retired to bed for a proper celebration. He fell asleep thinking about strawberry blonde babies watching Pinocchio, and it felt so right he decided he'd never complain about that movie again.

"What about Claire?"

His suggestion was met by a glare from Donna.

"What?" Harvey asked. "I've never been with a Claire."

"2009. That Gala Jessica had everyone go to. One of her clients," she told him. Harvey still couldn't remember who she was talking about. "Blonde. Kind of short but cute. She was all over you," she rolled her eyes, clearly exasperated. He asked for no more information — not because he remembered who the woman was, but because he knew that tone, and Donna's temper had been pretty unpredictable lately. "She was the guy's secretary."

"Okay, I remember now," Harvey said honestly. "I thought her name was Lauren. I was hammered that night."

"You were! It was pretty awful to see, honestly," Donna agreed.

"You went with that boyfriend, what was his name… Carl? Blake? Josh?"

"Logan."

"Hated his guts. He kept staring at you."

"He was my date."

"And that's why I got hammered. I mean, I barely remember, but that was probably why," Harvey said matter-of-factly. "Me, jealous of you. Nothing new."

Donna pinched his cheek affectionately as she stood up.

"Ugh, I love how evolved you are nowadays."

He massaged his cheek once she let him go and watched as she moved around the condo — they were in the process of finding a new place, but the truth was that he still got a thrill every time he saw her like this, in what used to be his place, for him alone. Walking barefoot in his living room, taking the bowl of popcorn back to the kitchen, the loose blouse she wore betraying the baby bump that was becoming very visible no matter what she wore. The possibility of being a father had changed the way he thought, but the actual fact happening was something else entirely in its own.

Suddenly his condo didn't seem like the best place to raise a child — no proper garden, a rather small second bedroom. He could hardly see a toddler riding their tricycle on his terrace. And the fact was that they weren't getting any younger, and perhaps a second child would come sooner rather than later, one way or the other. It was time to plan grand, and he and Donna never really did do things halfway.

But if there was something more difficult than finding their perfect place — in a good neighborhood, with a good view, at least three bedrooms, a yard would be nice, and never forget to look up nearby coffee shops to make sure there was a good one around — it was choosing the baby's name.

They knew it was a girl, and that narrowed things down to a half, or so Harvey thought. Donna had an opinion on just about every name, and the ones she didn't seem to not like belonged to some of Harvey's past lovers — and some of them even he didn't remember.

"What about Emma?" Harvey tried. It was a cute name, and he was pretty sure he had never been involved with an Emma.

But Donna made a face. "That's very popular."

"So?"

"Do I look like someone who wants a kid who will have to deal with 7 different girls in her class with the same name she has?" She gave him a pointed look from her spot in the kitchen.

Harvey scrolled down his phone to the list of names. "Eleanor?"

"No. My Nana had a neighbor called that. She was the worst. You know she's the one who called the local radio station to talk about Uncle Roger's foot kink."

Harvey made a face. "Really?"

"Yeah, he had a lot of pictures of feet."

"How did she know about that?"

"That's why we don't name a child with her name, Harvey."

Harvey arched his eyebrows, going back to the list. "Abigail?"

"Jessica had a secretary named Abigail. You remember her?"

Predictably, he shook his head.

"Yeah, she was bland. That's a no."

He sighed. "Charlotte?"

"Nope. You dated Charlotte Harrison for a couple weeks. You remember, the journalist?" She asked, moving from the kitchen to the piano.

"Right. I barely remember those women, Donna," Harvey said patiently. "Surely you like some of these names."

"Really, Harvey?" Donna rolled her eyes. "If we were having a boy you'd be vetoing many names too."

"I wouldn't care," he challenged.

"Alright. What do you think of the name Mitchell?" Donna asked too sweetly.

Harvey didn't even blink. "That's a bad name in itself."

"Okay. Mark, Xavier, Edward?"

He made a face. "You dated a Xavier?"

She started playing something on the piano — he vaguely recognized the song, but wasn't sure which one it was. "I dated a lot of people, Harvey."

He sighed. "Do you like any names at all? Just tell me and I'll say what I think about them. Simple."

"I like plenty of names, I just haven't found the perfect one for her," Donna said as she played. "I want it to have personality, you know. But not too traditional. Like Donna."

"You are a lot of Donna, that's true," he said with a smile, remembering the night they met. He recognized the song she was playing now — a better rendition than the original, in his opinion. "Lady Gaga?"

Donna kept pressing her fingers to the keys with ease, not bothering to answer his suggestion.

"I was involved with an Alejandro once, you know," she said conversationally. "Just for a few weeks, I had just started acting… he was from Cartagena. A very informative affair, if you ask me."

She said the word with an accent that he would have found adorable had he not disliked the new information thrown at him. In fact, he disliked it so much that he stood from the couch and walked over to the piano, sitting beside her and making the song stop, as he took a lot of space like this — putting a palm against her belly and leaning down as if to speak to their child.

"The baby hates this song," he told Donna very seriously.

She smirked.

"I'm not a huge fan, either."

"Got it. Enough of exes."

"I'm glad you're so understanding," Donna teased him. She ran her fingers through his hair. "Alright. What about… Riley? Harper?"

"I prefer Riley."

Donna nodded, but still looked unsure. "We don't have to decide today."

"We really don't."

"Let's just leave it for now."

"Yeah. And no more talk of Colombian lovers," he pleaded.

Donna smiled softly at him. "The baby doesn't like that song, so I doubt I'll think of that guy again."

"Damn right."

Sunday was the one day of the week they could admit to having a routine — though that changed when the baby arrived. Routine was important, but they had a chaotic lifestyle at certain times — or Harvey did, anyway. Late night at the office happened much less constantly than it used to, and sometimes if they did have to stay in late, their daughter would be there with them.

But Sundays were theirs — work didn't have a spot in their Sundays anymore. And that was how Harvey found himself this morning — making scrambled eggs and overlooking his curious daughter — who had just recently celebrated her first birthday — play with her bowl and spoon in her high chair. Making quite a bit of noise.

"What did we talk about, huh?" Harvey asked her softly, but getting her attention immediately.

Wide hazel eyes stared back at him. Avery was like a miniature of Donna — from her hair color to her eyes to the way she pouted her lips when things didn't go the way she wanted them to. She also had a thing for theatrics — Donna claimed he was dramatic enough but she was the actress, so of course Avery got it from her. The baby had facial expressions to die for. Harvey had to replace his phone simply because he couldn't find it in himself to save all the pictures in an external drive. He had to have them on his phone, so more data was a necessity, truly.

"We have to be quiet so Mommy can sleep in today," he continued.

"Mama," Avery repeated, putting a finger across her lips. "Shhh."

"Yeah, that's right. Shh," he repeated.

Avery proceeded to accidentally drop the spoon she had been holding and clap her hands at his approval of her understanding. "Whoops!"

"Whoops is right," Harvey leaned down to get the spoon — he pointed it back to the baby, trying out his most strict tone. "I'm onto you, young lady."

Which was apparently very funny, because Avery burst out laughing the next second.

"That's great, that's… not supposed to be funny," Harvey kept talking, stirring the contents in the pan. Avery was still laughing. He couldn't help but smile. "Now you're making fun of me. You're just like your mom."

"Mama!" Avery repeated cheerfully, hands thrown in the air.

"Yeah, Mommy loves making fun of Daddy," Harvey said, rolling his eyes.

"Someone said my name?" Donna's voice made him turn — and sure enough, there was Donna, leaning against the doorway. Avery was already stretching her arms towards her.

"Mama!" She called again.

"Hi, baby," Donna said, quickly moving to pick her daughter up from the highchair.

"Hi!" Avery repeated — she was at that age where they really had to watch what they spoke around her. She giggled when Donna kissed her cheek and then her forehead. "Mama, hi!"

Donna laughed, squeezing Avery's foot and propping her up against her hip before walking towards Harvey and kissing his lips. She nuzzled his neck for a moment and he took advantage of it to breathe her in. She always smelled so nice.

"Morning, babe," he said softly.

"Something smells good," Donna commented. "Has she eaten yet?"

"Yeah, but that was before we went for our walk," he told her. "Thought you could use a few more hours of sleep."

He used to run nearly every Sunday before getting together with Donna — the routine was altered sometimes if they chose to sleep in. With Avery, he sometimes took her out for a walk — the stroller would put her right back to sleep when she was a newborn, and sometimes Donna joined them, but he enjoyed it as their father/daughter time. She was too young to truly notice it, but he thought it would be fun in the future — to go out with Daddy and bring Mommy pastries for breakfast. Donna certainly wouldn't complain.

"It was pretty nice, I'll say that," Donna said. Avery was busy playing with the string of her mother's shirt. "You wore me out last night."

"I live to serve," Harvey said, a palm resting against his chest.

Donna shook her head, a smile playing on her lips. "You're an idiot."

But she gave him a kiss anyway.

They had breakfast quietly, in no hurry at all — Donna fed Avery in between taking bites of her toast and soon the baby was full and ready to truly start her day, demanding to be put down. She walked on wobbly legs with determination to her toys in the living room, Harvey and Donna watching her from their spots on the table, still drinking their respective coffees. But instead of making a run for the stuffed pink seal she loved and favored — a monstrosity, in Harvey's opinion, but Donna thought it was cute — she went straight to the piano, little fingers banging down the keys. She repeated the motion, then looked back at her parents, a toothy grin on her lips.

Donna cringed at the high notes; Harvey laughed.

"Mama," she called, turning back to the piano and pressing the keys again.

"I think you've finally found a partner for a duet," Harvey teased Donna, who was already standing up.

They were both really fools for the baby — whatever Avery wanted, they'd gladly give it to her. Donna had been reading enough books on how to educate children to make sure she wasn't spoiled, but Harvey didn't care if she was — his solution to the problem was to give her a sibling, because another one would keep them both busy and share their attention with Avery. Donna kept reminding him it might not happen naturally at all, but they had only just started trying again.

"You want to play a duet, darling?" Donna said, leaving her coffee to go to the piano, where the baby was still playing animatedly.

She sat on the stool, and meant to take Avery to sit on her lap, but the baby took a few steps back — too stubborn for her own good. Harvey snickered as he watched the scene. Donna played a few animated notes, Avery quietly watching, and when Donna stopped playing the baby pressed her hands to the keys a few times. Donna looked back and flashed him a smile, playing the same tune again, while Avery pressed the keys again after a moment. Harvey watched the scene with a smile, laughing when the sounds delighted Avery so much that she jumped up and down, this time not resisting her mother when she picked her up and showered her with kisses.

Sundays were his favorite days ever.

Harvey had to admit it, he was tired.

Between saving the firm once again and handling two children under the age of three, his days were full and his nights were short — especially since the little one was now teething and they were up with her most of the night, taking turns. He was pretty sure Donna was handling it just as well as he was, so when he volunteered to pick her up when the baby monitor echoed with her cries, Donna only smiled and nodded and went back to playing with Avery in the living room.

He took one look at the teary-eyed baby in her crib and assessed the situation — the diaper was empty and clean, she had no fever, and had eaten just an hour ago. Ella's brown eyes widened as she looked at her father, and stopped crying almost instantly when he settled her in his arms, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"There you go, Daddy's here," he said softly, pressing his lips against the short blonde hair. "You don't feel sleepy anymore?"

She patted her hands against his cheeks, as if making her wishes clear. Harvey arched his eyebrows.

"You wanna join us downstairs, that's it?" he asked her.

Ella threw her little arms around his shoulders and rested her head near his neck. Still sleepy, apparently, but not in the mood to be alone. She was tiny bundle of energy when she was wide awake, that was for sure, but the baby actually slept way better than Avery did at that age — to the point where she fell asleep in the middle of night feedings. The teeth were a new scenario — they had gotten used to sleeping through the night and the past week had been made out of living in very little sleep, with Ella having a fever and Avery waking up early every day and still demanding their attention.

But they could do it. Other people did, and they were acing it. He knew they were — even if there were doubts sometimes.

It was still a sight to behold, nevertheless, when he appeared walking down the stairs with the baby — the way Avery's eyes lit up at the sight of her little sister was something he especially treasured. Donna was an only child and he only had one brother — raising two little girls so close in age was clearly as fun as it could get. He felt as if he was being a part of something stronger — they were young, both of them still babies even, but he could tell they would be a true team when they were older.

"She's okay," he assured Donna when he met her slightly worried eyes. "Just awake."

"Ella!" Avery called, in her nearly three years old of glory, standing up and jumping slightly. "Ella, here!"

She had her pajamas on already, yellow ones, and had insisted on wearing the bright purple tutu after her bath. Her auburn curls were wild from all the playing she had been doing, and he gave Ella over to Donna, who placed her next to her thighs on the playing mat. He moved to the player and changed records — the living room had turned silent from the end of an album when he left to get the baby. He selected one of his favorites, and turned to join his girls on the floor.

Avery was now playing peek-a-boo with Ella, though it was unclear if any of them truly knew the gist of the game. After a while their oldest grew restless, and demanded Mommy to continue their previous activity — acting out with her many dolls and stuffed animals. Tonight Donna had invented some sort of apocalyptic situation where one of Avery's stuffed bears was like a Godzilla attempting to destroy the city of stuffed animals. Harvey snickered, made a comment on the king of monsters, and focused his attention on Ella instead — blowing raspberries on her stomach and making the baby wiggle and giggle. She'd pat her palms against his cheeks if it took him too long to continue, and the nights with little sleep had never been further from his mind. They made it all worth it.

The tune changed and Avery stood up.

"I love this!" She exclaimed, and he and Donna shared a look — because not many girls this young proclaimed their favorite music was jazz. "Mama, can you play?"

Donna pressed her lips against Avery's cheek, their hair mingling as one for just a second. They knew the deal. He passed her Ella over without so much as a question, and stood up, offering Avery his hands. His little girl took them, looking up at him with a toothy grin that reminded him of himself.

Donna matched the notes from his father's song on the piano, albeit with only one hand as the other was occupied holding Ella — it wasn't much but it was enough that Avery loved it, and Harvey bent down to pick her up and dance with her more animatedly. When he leaned her down, she giggled.

"That's a great move, Daddy," Donna mocked him, playing the piano slowly.

Ella touched her fingers to the keys, making the whole thing sound a downright disgrace, but that made them both laugh all the same — especially when she continued pressing her hands to the keys with a frown on her little face.

"You should see my other moves," Harvey told her, sending a wink her way, turning Avery around and making her squeal in delight.

"Haven't I seen them all?" She challenged.

"Babe, there's always something new to discover with you," he said smoothly, and Donna laughed out loud at that. She stopped playing altogether, holding Ella close to her.

"Daddy thinks he'll convince Mommy to stay up when you two sleep tonight," she said against Ella's ear, though the baby was too interested in making noise to pay attention.

"Is it working?" Harvey arched his eyebrows, putting Avery down — she continued to dance and jump around him.

They exchanged a look — him, smirking a little, a hopeful look on his face. Her, with a soft smile, and serious eyes.

"It might," Donna assured him. When he smiled brightly, she rolled her eyes. "You'd think I refuse you every other day!"

"We have been tired. I wasn't holding much hope."

"Well, Mommy still needs to have her fun a few times a week," she told him rather sternly, standing up with the baby. "That's why I make sure you take your vitamins too. Not just the babies."

"I love a sexy mama," he whispered as she got closer, and pressed his lips against hers, Ella between them. He held Donna's waist and swayed slightly.

It wasn't long until Avery tugged on his pants and demanded to be held as well, and soon it was the four of them swaying slowly to his dad's music. He gave Avery a kiss as she rested her head against his shoulder, and both he and Donna knew the night wasn't going to be a late one for their daughters. He exchanged a look with his wife, and knew she knew exactly just what he was thinking — that he hoped his dad could have been around to see this. And her eyes told him right back — he'd be proud of him.

They never did have to talk much to hold a conversation.

He was sitting by the piano when Donna walked down the stairs — still in her dark blue long dress, but now without the heels. He loved the dress on her — simple yet cunning. Thin straps holding the dress up her shoulders, showing just enough cleavage to drive him a little crazy, and there was that slit up her leg that had been distracting all evening. He had already taken his bow tie off, and opened a few buttons of his shirt. Her mother had looked after the girls for the evening and would be spending the weekend with them, much to their daughters' delight. He had checked on the children upon arriving and let Donna have a moment with her mom to make sure everything had been fine — and decided a nightcap wouldn't hurt. It was already late but it had been a few weeks since they had had a night for themselves.

So he took a sip of his scotch and offered the glass to her when she got closer. Donna accepted it and took a sip as well.

"No glass for me?" She asked, running her hand on his shoulders.

"I think we've both drank enough tonight that we could share this one," he said with what he knew was a goofy smile.

She put the glass down on the piano — enough of a clue to know that she was a little drunk — and rested her knee next to his thigh, and then moved her body to straddle him. He put his hands on her hips to steady her. She leaned down to kiss him, their tongues sliding next to each other in a familiar dance.

"Are the girls still asleep?" He whispered when they pulled away. She was rolling her hips slowly against his, and he couldn't help but groan, one hand finding the slit on her dress and pressing his palm against the skin of her thigh and up, up, up.

Donna nodded, hands swiftly pressing against his jacket and taking it off of him, letting it fall to the floor. The movement caused her to sit up straight, and he took advantage of it to press his mouth against her chest, moving her dress around to free her breast. When his lips found a nipple, she arched her back, and they froze when her fingers pressed against the keys of the piano and the sound echoed in the silent penthouse. They both didn't move for a moment, Donna's eyes focused on the mezzanine upstairs, both their ears alert for the sound of tiny footsteps — or perhaps even her mother's.

When nothing happened, she let go of the keys and pressed her hands against his shoulders instead.

"Bedroom?" She asked breathlessly.

Harvey squeezed her thighs. "Bedroom."

They'd have plenty of opportunities to do it against the piano, but tonight wasn't one of them.