Hi, everyone. I hope you're all doing okay. I'm sure everything that has manifested in the past month has been scary for everyone. I hope there are people out there looking out for you to make sure you are being taken care of, whether it be that you have enough food, enough supplies, and some sort of income. I'm sending you my love, if that carries any value for you.

In the meantime, I've written this little blurb to try and keep everyone distracted. The title is an homage to a tweet I saw that made me burst out laughing despite all the anxiety-inducing news. It's pre-canon Donna and Harvey, being their usual selves even in the midst of a near-apocalypse. Work's still in progress, but I think I have an idea where it's headed.

Stay safe and stay strong, everyone. And please remember to be kind- in times like these, we need each other more than ever.

She's worried.

The world has just been.. a lot lately. Their firm was finally back on its two feet without anyone present to run interference, and just when things were getting back to its usual smooth-sailing state, and she thought everyone could finally take a breath, the viral outbreak hits. And now, most of New York was going under a shelter-in-place starting tonight.

She saw it coming, saw it from a mile away manifesting into something larger and uglier before the administration had even found the courage to bring it up to the general public. She didn't become an informal crisis manager out of nowhere, for crying out loud. Two weeks prior, she had stocked up on lysol wipes and lysol spray, and had stocked up reasonably on food and made sure her parents and her neighbor Mrs. Jones would be alright.

She's just not sure Harvey is. And even though she's certainly not his secretary anymore (not that that would've been in her job description in the first place), well, old habits die hard. She's seen how hard he's been working lately, and she can't help but feel for him. Plus, she's told Rachel about her predictions so that the Seattle couple would be prepared on their own, texted Jessica briefly about it, and spent thirty minutes talking Louis down from purchasing an entire Costco so technically, she's not giving him any special treatment.

She just has a bag at home, with some supplies. And some necessities, like basic food items and some alcohol. It's not that much, only enough to supply him if needed but nice for her to keep anyway if he doesn't need them. She'll keep it at home for now, and give him the benefit of the doubt.

5 hours before quarantine

Harvey's stressed. He can't believe that today is his last day of work in this office until god knows when, and now he's left with a million loose ends he needs to tie up. What the hell was a shelter-in-place order anyway? He needs to look up what any of it means so that he can buy shit to survive in case he can't.

He contemplates asking Donna for a little help, but the thought leaves him quicker than it comes. There's no way he could ask such a big favor, especially when she's busy taking care of the entire damn place.

He needs to find the Gifford files. He was just looking at them two hours ago, at his sofa. Or was it his desk? Or did he leave it on his bookcase?

Fuck. This was going to be such a long night. He needs to fucking finish his work.

3 hours before quarantine

"ERIC, I SWEAR TO GOD-" Harvey doesn't get to finish yelling into his phone because his door suddenly opens and in saunters Donna.

"Eric Packmayer or Boshoven?" she whispers.

"Packmayer," he mouths back, after covering the mouth piece.

She makes a gesture to hand him the phone, and he looks at her with a hint of doubt before obliging.

"Eric, hi! It's Donna. Sorry, I know you and Harvey were talking but I haven't seen you around in forever and i wanted to say hi! Have you and Charlene been well?"

"Oh, I see..."

"Do not agree to anything," he whispers, but she just tuts him away.

"Well, thank goodness I decided to pop in! Harvey has two tickets for the opera next season, and I know Charlene's always been a big fan of Die Zauberflote and Marriage of Figaro. I know he's a little hard-headed but I guarantee you, he has your best interest at heart and Charlene would love them." A pause. "You'd love them? Sure, I"ll mail it out with you, along with the contract ASAP."

He's taken aback. Since when did he have tickets to the opera? And why does he need a contract?

"Lovely. You'll have to tell me how the shows goes. And do you still need to speak to Harvey? No? Okay, well, don't be a stranger! Come back and say hi once in a while, and send my love to Charlene, will you? Great."

She hangs up the phone, facial expression victorious. Before he can understand what just happened, she's at his laptop, typing away.

"What the... How the hell did you... I've been on the phone with him for 38 minutes and he's been yelling at me for 35 of them!" he exclaims, more to himself than to her.

(Her office is not that far away. She heard every word.)

"What can I say, the wisdom of Donna is every day..."

"No, seriously, how did you do that?"

She takes a beat to smirk at him before continuing to type away at his computer. "Packmayer's an old man. He was yelling at you about not understanding the contract because he doesn't read his email, which was why he needed so much clarification and why he thought you were incompetent." She presses the enter key and his printer starts chugging out the aforementioned contract. "For all he knows, you never sent him a contract, and you're just talking out of your ass," she teases.

"It's also March, which means his anniversary with Charlene is coming up, and he's always stressed about buying her a present. Wonderful man, terrible with gifts. Which he knows, by the way, and most likely the reason he was being extra snappy with you today. I've seen their names at a lot of shows, so I know they're a big patron of the arts, and since this opera season is so highly coveted..."

She sighs dramatically. "I was going to take the tickets like I usually do, but for the greater good.. I'll relinquish them,"

He can't help but grin at her now. She just gave him a show, and he's secretly pleased. "Alright, that's enough. You want those tickets so badly? I'll get another set for you,"

(It's odd, he thinks. He was on the verge of a breakdown trying to get a handle on everything with a migraine crawling to haunt him further, but with her presence here now, in his office, he doesn't even remember the stress he was under. She just had that effect.)

"Thank you, Harvey, but you don't have to do that. I just go on the off chance there's a hunky man with Shakespearean shorts on that I can stare at all night," she jokes.

He chuckles at that.

Then he remembers the pile of work he still has to get through.

"Listen, I'd offer you a drink but with the quarantine thing starting tomorrow," he starts,

"You don't have to say a word more. I was on my way out, anyway. I'll get these and the tickets to Eric on my way home. I just wanted to make sure you were ready with the whole shelter-in-place thing starting tonight?"

He scratches the back of his head, trying to come off as nonchalant but also trying to hide his minor embarrassment. "Honestly.. No. I figured I'd just finish up here and ask Ray to swing by someplace just to pick up some essentials."

"You do know the stores are all sold out of everything, right?"

Fuck. He didn't. But in hindsight, of course it would be. Of course people would go batshit crazy at the words "pandemic" and "quarantine". He's worked with Louis all of these years, for crying out loud. And if he was really honest with himself, he's not even sure what grocery store he frequents now, having had everything delivered straight to his door the past few years.

"Shit," he mumbles to himself. He sighs, before looking back up at her. "It's fine, I"ll figure it out somehow. Thanks for the concern, though."

He doesn't even have to ask to know she's readily prepared, and was probably so three weeks ago.

"I'll see you..." he waves his hand before pausing for a minute. How long was this supposed to last anyway? Surely not over a week. That'd be unreasonable.

"Probably in April," she muses.

"APRIL?!" he nearly yells.

"Harvey, it's a pandemic. There's more than 4,000 cases in New York alone and it's bound to get worse,"

"I get all that, but it's just-"

He's never spent more than a week away from her.

Not for vacations, not for holidays, and certainly not during seasonal breaks. In fact, whether it be a blessing or a curse, dating other people was so hard because they had to constantly see each other.

She smiles warmly at him. "What's wrong? Gonna miss me?" she dares to ask.

She blatantly ignores the fact that her heart is pounding just from proposing the question.

"Only as much as you'll miss me," he replies, with a wide grin easily prepared.

She pretends to roll her eyes. "Ugh, you're such a lawyer,"

He looks down and chuckles and considers asking her out for one last meal, before his eyes catch onto the reason he's still here in the first place. "Ugh," he repeats. He can't believe he forgot, but he's not surprised she really was just that distracting.

"Anyways, I just came by to check up on you, and seeing since you have no supplies and I came prepared as always and have extras... do you want them?"

He's dumbfounded, and stares at her with a look of admiration. What would life really be like without her? He can't believe he'd been dumb enough in the past to risk almost finding out. He thinks about how to respond, and decides it's late and they should be allowed to have some fun. "Marry me?"

She catches on right away. "We've been married for the past, oh, thirteen years?"

"It's not like you to forget our anniversary, Debbie,"

She laughs jovially while shaking her head, and it raises his spirits exponentially. "You're an idiot."

She walks out. "Pack up your shit. You do know work from home is a thing right? I'll be over in an hour."