Author's note: Final chapter! Coming to you with a quick update! Thank you all who read, reviewed, followed, and favored this fiction. It was a pleasure to write, I'm just sorry I left you hanging for several weeks there. That was not intentional! I will now be re-focusing my efforts back on All the Cards Fall. For now, enjoy this last installment!

Go Out With a Whimper

When Donna awoke the next morning, she immediately turned over to find Harvey. Unlike the day before, he was there this time, lying on his back with his head turned away, still breathing slowly from deep sleep.

The night before they had napped together for about an hour, and then Harvey had pulled away from her, groggily saying something about making dinner. He had found a package of frozen ravioli and had run to the grocery store down the street for some Italian bread. She was impressed that he was making the extra effort to take care of her, like he said he would. Not that she needed it anymore.

They had stayed up ridiculously late playing Scrabble. Just as she was about to crawl into bed, she'd looked out her door at Harvey to see that he was rubbing his right shoulder and wincing. All throughout their games, she had seen him change position at least half a dozen times. He was clearly uncomfortable and in pain.

"Harvey," she said and he looked over at her. "You can sleep in here tonight." She can see his expression as if he expects a trap, but then she continues, "If you're quick about it, I'll throw in a back massage."

That got him moving. He took off his shirt, crawled onto the bed and sprawled out face down.

"Looks like I know your weakness; Harvey Specter is as obedient as a puppy if massages are in his future."

"Do with me as you will," he replied with a smirk.

Donna raised her eyebrows high. "I never thought you'd entertain the idea of being a sub."

"What can I say? I love a woman who can kick my ass."

Instead of standing, she hops up onto the bed to straddle his waist, flexes her fingers, and then begins digging into his skin. His shoulders are more tightly wound than she's ever felt and the muscles leading to his neck are about a pliable as stone. "When was the last time you had a massage?"

"It's been a few months."

"Well, you're going to have to go more frequently than this," she said as she heard him groan.

"You already control my schedule. Make it so, number one."

When she had finished, he rolled over to one side of the bed and almost immediately fell asleep. He's shirtless, but at least he's wearing flannel pants.

Even as Donna looked at him now, she could spot obvious signs of him waking, from the way he was suddenly shifting, to the obviously changes in his breathing. She reached over to stroke his hair, which made him smile and he cracked his eyes open.

"Morning," he mumbled as he stretched and sat up. "Sleep well?"

"I did. No nausea at all this morning." It felt so damn good to not feel sick that Donna was practically giddy.

"Well, that's good. Not sure how much longer I could have managed without my assistant."

She rolled her eyes. "Never fear. I appear completely and unable to leave you high and dry."

He gave her a strange smile. "I am at your mercy. It's not a mutual arrangement."

"Harvey, I will never leave you voluntarily," she replied, reaching out to place a hand on his cheek. He leaned into it momentarily and then he leaned in to nuzzle her neck.

"I'm surprised. No kiss?"

"I was going to, but morning breath."

"Good point. Go brush your teeth."

"Not mine. Yours!"

Donna shoved him and he fell about of bed, simultaneously sprawled on the floor and tangled in her sheets. He just laughed.

"So charming. I really don't know how my panties haven't fallen off for you yet."

"That would be a kickass super power," he said, finally untangling himself from the sheets so that he could smirk down on her.

She threw his undershirt at him. "Get some clothes on!"

They were just cleaning up breakfast when Donna's cell phone cut through the peaceful morning. She frowned and began rooting around in her purse for it. Honestly, the only one likely to call was Harvey. Louis tried to get ahold of her occasionally but she would only answer him through text messages. The number came up 'unknown' but she answered, "This is Donna."

"Ms. Paulsen?"

"Yes?"

"This is Dr. Carlyle."

"Oh, hi!" But she frowned and wondered, The doctor's office is open on a Saturday?

"We have the results from your blood and urine tests. All results for pregnancy were negative, however we discovered some white blood cells in your urine. Normally you would never have any blood there."

"So what does that mean?"

"I think the odds are high that you had a bladder infection."

"A bladder infection?" Harvey shot her an odd look and his eyes demanded an explanation when she finally hung up. "How would that cause this kind of vomiting?"

"Mostly by just irritating your stomach."

"Okay." This didn't make any damn sense to her.

"Would you like me to write you a prescription to treat this?"

"No thank you. It's going away on its own. Goodbye." She hung up before the doctor could say anything else and glared at her kitchen.

"Your doctor determined you had a bladder infection?" Harvey asked and he was smirking in amusement.

"Apparently. The infection was irritating my stomach and that's why I had so much nausea and vomiting." Harvey shook his head and shrugged. "Doesn't make much sense to me either."

"Well…he did go to medical school."

"He's still not as competent as I would like him to be."

"At least you're not pregnant."

"No, thankfully. He did say that those tests came back negative."

"Good," Harvey replied, let his fingers run up her arm, which made her shudder.

"You're still not getting any today."

"A man can always dream," he said with a mock sigh.

"I'm not sure I want to know what's in your dreams."

The End