Author's Note: Suits has been a little depressing of late. The tension is great and all, but I've really needed some light banter and with Donna out of the picture, that's a little far between. Hopefully this will do! Rated for mild language.

I do not own Suits.

The Day the Earth Stands Still

It was like any normal day in Pearson Hardman. Associates were running all over the place like chickens with their heads cut off, trying to keep up with the work Louis piled on them. Donna was typing up paper work and filing it, and the boys were off saving the day in court, which Donna could not be more thankful of. Her appearance was clean and kempt as always, but the most observant people would see that her skin was a shade paler than usual, her arms moved stiffly from the tension in her shoulders, and there was a barely noticeable sheen of sweat on her forehead.

For the first time in a long time, Donna Paulsen was sick.

This was a rarer event than a lunar eclipse. Donna was never sick. Yes, she got the sniffles every winter – who didn't? – but never had she felt so miserable since the last time she'd gotten plastered. Donna did not even so much as take a vacation unless Harvey Specter did. The Earth would stand still when that happened.

But this…she may have to take an exception to this. Her symptoms, however, she did not feel sick enough to call in. All she was feeling was nausea and vomiting. No stuffed nose, no headache, no migraine, no actual stomach problems or irritation, not even a hangnail, but merely nausea and vomiting and even the nausea was intermittent. She had been just as hungry at lunch as she always was, but after losing everything this morning, she settled for just a cup of soup. She even took her temperature before heading into work and everything was normal.

The answer seemed obvious: pregnancy. But even that didn't quite add up. She wasn't like Harvey who had a sex escapade every weekend. Her last fling had been so long ago, she though she would've felt symptoms before now. The combination of pills and condoms and the fact that she was approaching forty meant it would take nothing short of a miracle to get pregnant. Still, it wasn't impossible. She decided she'd give it a few days before she emptied the local pharmacy of their tests.

She better not be pregnant! Just thought of having a child related to Daniel Kliegman was enough to make her ill. Sleep with? Sure. Have a child with? Hell no!

Until then, though, she would have to keep herself from strangling the next person who came to her desk. If it was Harvey, she could console herself over his death that she could finally get her vacation out of the helpless and needy bastard.

The steady staccato of her fingers typing faltered as a sudden wave of nausea swept over her and she clenched her jaw shut. You will not throw up in the trash bin under your desk, she commanded herself as she pushed away from her desk and purposefully strode to the bathroom with as much dignity as she could.

A woman came out just as she reached the door and she sent up a silent 'thank you' to any deity listening that there was no one else in the bathroom. She locked the door to ensure her privacy and then lunged for the first toilet and emptied her stomach for the second time that day.

When she finished, she went to the sinks and winced at her appearance. Her skin was ashen but worse, still, she wasn't certain her eye make-up could hide the dark circles that were starting to form. She gargled water to get the awful after taste out of her mouth and decided to at least attempt to touch her make-up before the boys got back. It was tough getting anything past Harvey, but Mike would be the worst, and he would be even more adamant about bothering her over it than Harvey would.

On her way back, she nearly halted in her tracks when she saw the boys were back. Harvey was already putting on his victory record and Mike was standing in front of his desk with his hands in his pocket, ever the loyal soldier.

Damn Harvey Specter for being such an efficient closer!

At least this bonus should earn her another pair of Prada shoes.

She was only just walking past her desk when Mike came out with a triumphant grin and folder in hand, no doubt with his marching orders.

"Was it a victory then?"

He grinned cheekily at her. "You doubted, Harvey?"

"Just wondering if I can go shoe shopping this weekend."

"I'm sure you'll end up with a whole new outfit after this win," Harvey said to her with a pleased smirk and a roll of his eyes.

"I have to be sure you don't skimp on the bonus. I don't want to have to drug your coffee or charge it all to your card," Donna replied with an all too innocent look.

"I think I know better than most men about how to keep you happy," Harvey shot back with a taunting smile.

She noticed Mike's eyebrows almost disappear into his hair at the obvious sexual undertones of the response, but she eyed him coolly. "And yet, you still haven't claimed official sugar daddy position with me."

The pleased smirk dropped from Harvey's face and his eyes darkened.

"I'm going to leave. I'll be sure to have this all done by the end of the day," Mike said, scurrying off as Harvey approached to go toe to toe with Donna.

"You can drop the uncaring act. I know for a fact not a single one of those losers in your cadre of male…acquaintances," he said the word as though it left a sour taste his mouth, "could even come close to matching the walk-in closet of items you've charged me over the years."

"Calling yourself a loser, Harvey? I've never seen green look so ugly on you," Donna replied with a slight smirk and finally willed herself to walk away.

When she looked back from behind the safety of her cubicle, he had a self-satisfied smile on his face and she frowned at him. What was he thinking? She didn't have much time to wonder, because as soon as she turned to her desk, she stared in surprise.

The first thing she noticed was the post-it note stuck to the computer monitor with 'GO HOME' written in giant letters. Then her eyes fell to the can of Ginger Ale and a tiny box of Saltine crackers perched conspicuously in front of her keyboard.

"You think I didn't notice the way you were clenching your jaw this morning? Any harder and you would have given yourself a tension headache. God forbid you call in for a sick day or two," Harvey replied, leaning over her cubicle wall to look at the items.

"Says the man who went to court with a stomach virus three years ago."

"I ate my Saltines before trial and I made it through."

"You threw up in Jessica's personal trash can when you gave your report."

"She forgave me."

Donna shook her head. "Most employees that did that would be out on their ass. You're one lucky bastard."

He snorted. "I would hardly call it luck. After nearly a decade of quality work and increased profit margins as a result of my success, I earned the ability to be forgiven for all my faults." He watched as Donna moved to the Saltines and opened them up to begin munching on them. "Now, take the rest of the week off. I can make Mike do everything."

"Please. The puppy will be so nervous about doing my job, he'll make a mess of everything. I'll be back tomorrow."

"Your presence here does not mean life or death, Donna."

"Is this the correct firm?"

"Take some days! Jessica will kill me if whatever you have turns out to be contagious. You wouldn't want my death on your conscious now, would you?"

"I would actually get vacation time."

"But then your supply of Prada shoes and Tiffany's jewelry would dry up. Not to mention those expensive manicures you charge me."

"Hmm…good point. And those are perfectly valid expenses."

"Then make them valid. Go home, sleep, watched HGTV to your heart's content, read that damn book you've been wanting to read, whatever you want to do! Don't come back here until you can look me in the eye without going green."

"I guess I'll never be back," Donna replied, gathering up her items, including the Ginger Ale and the saltines before walking off.

Harvey had started back into his office, but Donna could not resist one last parting shot before heading to the elevator: "This counts as caring."

"Not a word or your supply of Prada shoes and Tiffany's jewelry really will dry up!"

She just smirked. He would never have the balls to deny her anything and he knew it. Strange illness and all, having the afternoon off would be an improvement on the day.

I hope everyone enjoyed this little piece! =)