Some quarantine fic for Donna and Harvey's six month wedding anniversary, anyone?

Beta'd by Heather and Sam, what would I do without either of you?

Prompt: Quarantine has Harvey and Donna stuck at home, trying to kill the time. 'Somehow', everything ends up being sexual. (post-canon)

—

the to do list

"We need a quarantine project," she states, dropping a list, a folder, and a stack of magazines on the kitchen island. It's the first day that they aren't working because the firm is on complete lockdown for the next two weeks, so they're at home, self-isolating as best as they possibly can.

"A what?"

"A quarantine project. We actually have time to do things around this place that we've been meaning to do since the move, so I say that we work on whatever we can now."

"Or," Harvey says, suggestion lacing his tone with a quick glance toward the bedroom, "We could—"

"Harvey," Donna replies sternly. She doesn't need to tell him that that is part of the reason most of these tasks remain unfinished.

"Just a suggestion. Where do we start?"

;

They start by painting the home office. Or, attempting to paint the home office.

A third of the way through the second wall, Donna stops — her eyes catching Harvey off to her left. He looks so different like this, in a t-shirt and jeans with a ring on his finger as the two of them do housework together.

"What?" he asks, pulling her from her trance.

"Nothing."

Harvey sets the paint roller down in the tray, taking the last few steps to her side. Fingers trail up her arm and he smirks, face mere inches from Donna's. "You were checking me out."

She tilts her head slightly, "So what if I was? Have I ever told you that 'husband' really suits you?"

At that, Harvey's lips are on hers, Donna melting into him as their hands roam in search of purchase. It's only another minute before he's pushing her up against the desk and she's pulling his shirt over his head.

The walls can wait. They have fourteen days.

;

It takes three days to finish with the room, "distractions" getting in the way at every turn but then they're onto project number two. Organization.

"I think," Harvey says, trying to catch his breath, "I like this project. A lot."

They're sprawled out on the living room floor, boxes of old photographs and paperwork all around. Donna lays across his chest, trying to regain some semblance of control as they come back down to reality. Sweat lingers on their skin as his fingers wander up her spine and Donna can't help the quiet laugh that escapes her.

"All of that because of one picture?"

The picture in question is one that he had been given after Mike and Rachel's wedding. One that he kept. It's just the two of them — Harvey's eyes on Donna next to him, standing together in a quiet corner of the room during Robert Zane's speech. It isn't so much that the picture is of them, but the way that he's watching her in it. It's an almost. Almost ready. Almost there. Almost hers, completely.

He's always been even just a little bit hers.

"For the record, I wanted to do that that night too."

"For the record, I would have let you."

;

The office is painted, all of their boxes full of random trinkets, pictures, and paperwork are organized, and a stack of donatable items sits next to the front door a week and a half into isolation.

Clicking the red ink on her pen, Donna draws a check next to the last item on their list as Harvey adds a box of mismatched kitchen wear to the ever growing pile of things to donate. "Everything that we can do while quarantined on this To Do list is done," she says, an accomplished tilt of the head aimed in his direction.

He slides behind her at the counter, hands meeting her hips as his fingers slowly draw toward the skin beneath her shirt — his t-shirt that she found two days earlier. "Not everything on the To Do list."

"You're an idiot," Donna laughs but she takes the bait and turns to face him, raising her eyebrows seductively. Before either have time to process much else, her mouth is on his, urgency in her hands as her own fingers move up through Harvey's hair. And then his are sliding down the back of her thighs, gripping them as he lifts her until she's level with the kitchen island, until she's placed on top of it — able to wrap her legs around him like an anchor, pulling him closer.

They finish… the list, too.

;

And finally, after two weeks of quarantine plus an additional third, things go back to normal — well, not normal but time starts to move again. It's only a few weeks out that they're hit with yet another pause; a pause in the form of two pink lines held in Donna's outstretched hand, just an inch away from Harvey's face in the office that they painted blue a month earlier — the same shade that their offices were back in Manhattan.

Lips meet in the middle, between smiles and laughs and shock and thrill and awe until Harvey stops, pulling back to look at Donna.

"Quarantine project?" he hints, the grin that she loves spreading across his face.

With a bite down on her bottom lip to suppress a laugh, Donna nods. She leans in again, a whispered "quarantine project" melting into their kiss.

—

Yeah, it turned into baby fic. Are we surprised? I'm me, after all. Anyway, I do want to add that I'm not a big advocate for 'using' a pandemic because it feels a little like exploiting a bad situation, but I got this prompt and chose to do it vaguely — hence why there's no specification or name drop. But I hope you're all staying safe and doing well throughout self-isolation! Please protect yourself, your loved ones, and immunocompromised individuals. Quarantine is about protecting our community so please, please be smart and be safe. Thank you!

And thank you for reading! Reviews, criticism, and the works are not only welcome but encouraged! ღ