Disclaimer: I do not own characters, show, etc.

A/N: How Harm and Mac move beyond friendship, from Harm’s pov. A parallel story to Mac’s version.

More than Friends - Harm

Harm made his way to Mac’s office, a spring in his step and a sly smile on his face. He had just heard the funniest story from Bud about Mac’s car troubles and was looking for something to do other than try and figure out his latest client’s personal debacles. He was a lawyer, not a damn babysitter. He forced his thoughts away from the horrendous afternoon he had just had and focused on how best to tease Mac. That was undoubtedly one of his favourite pastimes. He made a sport of seeing how long it took to exasperate her enough to say his name in that unique tone he was sure was reserved only for him. He stopped short as he came to her office. She was staring listlessly into space, the surface of her desk covered in piles of papers and folders. He leaned against the doorjamb to her office and watched her. She was being really unproductive.

She looked up slowly and her gaze fell on him. He thought a little spark may have just come back to those beautiful eyes of hers.

“Hey, Harm.”

He straightened himself and entered her office. She sounded tired and he almost considered foregoing the teasing in favour of sympathy. Almost.

“Afternoon, Mac.”

“What’s up?”

He watched her, trying to look casual as he made himself comfortable on the chair facing her desk. “Haven’t seen you since staff call. What have you been up to?”

“Same old, same old.” He watched as she leaned back against her chair and gave him that mischievous look that made him feel like he was in grade three again, trying to impress Jane Daley by putting a whoopee cushion on the teacher’s chair.

“Actually,” she continued, “I was hoping you could offer me a good distraction from all this work.”

He thanked his lucky stars that the years had at least given him enough maturity to repress the urge to find a whoopee cushion and see if the Admiral was out of his office. It helped that he had a purpose when he walked into her office. He made a point of returning her mischievous look. “Sorry, Mac, no run-ins with unhinged clients or bristling superiors to report on my end. But I hear you had a run-in of another kind…”

He tried to keep from laughing as realization dawned on her face. Her expression was priceless. She might say his name in that unique way sooner than he had originally thought. Let the countdown begin.

One Mississippi.

“You didn’t come to shoot the breeze! You just wanted to gloat.”

Two Mississippi.

He gave her his best innocent look and raised his hands defensively, “Who, me? I’m just trying to offer you a shoulder for your troubles, Mac.”

Three Mississippi.

She looked quite exasperated. He could feel it coming. “Harm! It’s not even remotely funny!”

Three seconds? That had to be a record of some sort.

He fought the smirk that was spreading on his face as she continued to rant, oblivious to his amusement. “I had to call a tow-truck for my car and then call a cab to come pick me up. There was a back-log because the rains were causing delays. I was drenched coming in because my stupid umbrella flew away in the wind! In the middle of the damn highway! I came in here late looking like a drowned cat.”

She stopped to gauge his level of support for her misery. He must have been doing a horrible job of looking concerned because his enjoyment at her state of frustration – her eyes were bright, her complexion slightly pink, her hands waiving this way and that – was cut short by a flying pen landing square on his chest. He tried with renewed effort to look attentive. She must have been satisfied because she continued, although in a more subdued tone.

“And now I have to go to the garage tonight to pick up my car – if they can fix it. And I don’t even know if such a thing is covered by my insurance. Act of God? Accidental collision? Hit and run? Well, not really a run.” She sighed dejectedly and he almost smiled. “They told me to come at 9 tonight. Ridiculous! And I have to get my car tonight since no staff cars are available tomorrow – there’s some conference taking place – and I need to go to Norfolk first thing in the morning. The work day is already over and I haven’t had the time yet to requisition a car to take me to the garage – if they have any left. With my luck, the stupid rains will somehow have caused every government employee in a three state radius to need a vehicle.” This time he really did smile. She really was laying it on thick. Too bad he was having way too much fun to feel sympathetic. Time to turn the teasing up a notch.

“Well, Colonel Doom-and-Gloom, I’m sure it’s not that bad. Some good things came out of this experience.” He attempted to inject more sincerity and less gloating in his tone as he built up to his punch line. He had been practicing this one ever since Bud told him about Mac’s day. “But, Mac, it’s not everyone who has the unique skill of catching a pigeon with a car. You’ve discovered a new way of hunting game. In an urban setting, no less. That would sell at least a few books.” He stopped trying to look like he was enjoying this any less than he really was.

The way she looked at him made him thankful for the desk that separated them. “Funny, Harm.”

The desk looked pretty sturdy, so he decided to continue, “You should call the book, ‘Urban Jungle: The Art of Hunting Pigeons with All-Wheel Drive’.” He twirled the pen she had just thrown at him between his fingers, feigning serious contemplation. He watched with glee as she frowned at him. This really was great fun. Thank god for the desk.

“Apparently sarcasm is lost on you today. So let me rephrase: Not funny, Harm.” He couldn’t help but laugh as the stress he had felt earlier melted away.

She threw her hands up in exasperation as he laughed. “The stupid bird scared the skin off of me, Harm! I didn’t know what hit me.”

Her suddenly low and serious tone caught his attention. He looked at her intently. It was true that she looked...he couldn’t quite put a word to how she looked. Sad and worried beyond her usual exasperation with him. Maybe Bud had not told him the whole story. Maybe Bud had withheld some details to keep him from worrying over her. He realized that he might have been rubbing salt in an open wound. “You weren’t hurt, were you?”

He was relieved when she shook her head.

“How badly was the car damaged?”

She recited a list and he felt his heart drop with every additional item she checked off on her fingers. “Cracked windshield. Dented grill. Dented hood. Broken headlight. And feathers and, umm, other stuff,” he watched in nothing short of surprise as she shuddered, “everywhere. It was an incredible amount of damage for such a small mass.”

He couldn’t believe how serious this actually was. And he was being an inconsiderate ass. He was pulled out of his self-berating by her voice. She didn’t sound upset, in fact she was smiling at him now. “Not to worry; nothing permanent. My marine instincts haven’t failed me yet. But I guess you can’t be too safe so I’ll just make sure to feed the pigeons really well the next time I’m in a park. Get in their good graces, you know, build some goodwill. Fear not, I’ll put in a good word for you. You can thank me in anything but meatless meatloaf.”

He wondered how many times in the past she had forgiven his less than stellar behaviour towards her. He thought, not for the first time, that she really was incredible. He decided to take her olive branch for what it was. “Maybe we could grill up whatever you catch in your next round in the urban jungle, Mac.” They smiled at each other and he enjoyed the way the late afternoon light played of her eyes, her hair, her skin. She was beautiful. He was hit by this rushing, rolling need to spend time with her. Maybe he could ask her to share dinner with him. Offer her a ride to the garage. He was sure he could make her accept. He was sure, as well, that she would accept a lot more if he only offered it to her. When would he be willing to do that? The way he felt about her was different from what he had felt for any woman. His desire for her was as warm and affectionate as it was passionate. It was unlike anything he had experience with and that terrified him. And filled him with such a rush of adrenaline he practically shook with it. Coward Harm battled with Daring Harm every time she smiled at him just as she was doing now. Coward Harm had always won to date. Maybe it was time to turn a new leaf. He had done incredibly dangerous and stupid things countless times in the past, starting with a whoopee cushion on the teacher’s chair for Jane Daley in grade three. Why not one more time?

“I’ll give you a ride to the garage tonight.” As soon as the words left his mouth he immediately wished he had asked her in the form of a question rather than a statement. She would think he was doing it out of guilt for teasing her. If her look of surprise was any indication, she was about to turn down his offer.

“It’s out of your way, don’t worry about it. I can manage just fine.”

Time to lay on the Rabb charm. He crossed his fingers.

“Come on, Mac. I’ll throw in take-out at my place to pass the time. Then I’ll drop you off at the garage later tonight. You won’t have to worry about cab fare or requisitioning any cars. And you’ll get to spend an evening with me.” He gave her the smile that usually got him what he wanted from the opposite sex and winked.

She, predictably, saw right through his blatant attempt to charm. Her eyebrow inched up, “You don’t have plans, Don Juan?”

He gave her his toothiest grin. “I will if you say yes.”

She shook her head at him and, to his delight, laughed. “Well, I would hate to leave a gap in your social calendar. Just give me a minute to organize my desk.”

He uncrossed his fingers and relaxed, feeling quite pleased with himself. Time for a parting shot. He let his eyes roam her desk critically, “I’ll believe that when I see it, Mac.”

---

As soon as he merged on to the highway, she asked him the question he had been dreading since he had entered her office. “How was court today?”

He decided to play it casual. Maybe she would drop it without getting to the parts that she was sure to use as ammunition in retaliation for his earlier teasing of her.

“Had to get a continuance. Client was withholding information. He was suddenly hit with the revelation that it might be a good idea to share with his counsel all of two minutes before the judge came out of chambers.”

“Annoying.” She was sympathetic.

He nodded and pretended to check his blind spot so that she couldn’t read the expression on his face. “That’s not the half of it. I spent the rest of the day trying to mediate said client’s own family melodrama.” Damn. He should not told her that bit. Lulled by sympathy...He heard her laugh. Change the subject, Rabb. “What do you feel like having for dinner?”

He gave her a quick glance and saw that the distraction had worked. She was definitely thinking about food. It never failed to surprise him how easy it was to distract her with the mere mention of dinner.

“How about that new Thai restaurant that opened a few blocks from you? I’m in the mood for some green curry. You can get tofu something.” She did not sound impressed with his nuanced and sophisticated palate for the healthier things life had to offer.

“You might like tofu, Mac.” If only she knew that his famous meatless meatloaf was really a tofuloaf. He tried not to look too smug. He had fed her tofu and she didn’t even know. Some marine.

“And I might not. Why put myself through the trauma of finding out?” Valid point. Especially because it was true.

“Thai it is. You can get the number off directory assistance and place the order. It’ll be ready by the time we get there.”

She nodded as he watched her fish her cell phone out from her purse, dial directory assistance and turn her attention to the passenger side window as she waited to be taken off hold. He frowned. She was being quite pensive today. It was not like her to be so rattled by a mere pigeon. What could be troubling her? He doubted she would ever tell him. He knew what he had to do, to say, to have her share more of herself with him. He just didn’t know how to say it, didn’t know if he could say it. Coward Harm seemed to be at an advantage in today’s struggle.

She broke the silence. “I can’t believe it’s still raining. It’s been two days straight.”

“Don’t fear, Mac. My pilot instincts are far superior to your marine ones.” She may have thought her warning glare would shut him up, but really he quite liked having her fiery gaze directed at him. It made him feel like he could single-handedly power the sun. “You let the pigeon hit you. My finely honed skills will allow me to avoid any incoming aerial threats.”

She snorted unattractively. He loved riling her up like that. “You just don’t know how to enjoy the thrill of the hunt. And how could you if you choose tofu over meat? Can’t exactly hunt soy in the wild, now can you.” Touché.

“Just order dinner, Urban Huntress.”

She turned her attention to the phone and once again turned pensive as she stared out the window. He would pull her out of this mood somehow. She would probably enjoy the courtroom saga he had had to endure earlier in the day. He figured it would make her laugh so he decided not to evade the topic the next time she brought it up. Which, undoubtedly, she would.

“What tofu dish will you regale your taste buds with tonight, Harm?”

“Pad Thai.”

She placed their order and hung up the phone. “Ready in 20 minutes.”

He was surprised and immeasurably satisfied by her next words.

“Thanks, Harm, for dinner and the company.”

“Anytime.” The smile on his face was automatic. But it dimmed slightly when she spoke again.

“So,” her tone was teasing, “you never finished telling me about your stint as a family mediator.”

She did remember. He grunted evasively but some of his good humour was restored when he heard her laugh. He should have gone easier on her about the pigeon. She continued, “Did you find your true calling? You could write a self-help book. I would suggest: “Friendly Skies: How to Successfully Navigate Domestic Turbulence.”

That was horrible. Maybe if he ignored her?

“I’m just offering a friendly shoulder, Harm.”

Maybe not. Ignoring had never worked in the past, why would it start now? He fought a smile. No point in letting her know how much he was enjoying her attention.

Might as well get this over with. “The Petty Officer said he had no alibi. Turned out he did and it was another officer. A female other officer. He was sure to swear at least six ways from Sunday that they were only friends. He didn’t want his family to think he had a girlfriend because his parents insist that he not mess around with the opposite sex until he’s settled in his career. I don’t know why.”

“That was the family drama?”

“It gets worse. His mother overhead his confession and made a fuss, wanting to see the female officer. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. Called her son an ingrate for messing up such a good thing in his life. She shouted it in the middle of the courtroom. Told him he was just like his father. I have no idea what that meant but it made the petty officer go red in the face.”

He could feel her suppress her laughter, at least she was putting more effort into it than he had for her. He might as well concede before she exploded. “I guess turnabout is fair play.”

That was apparently all the encouragement she needed because she burst into laughter as soon as the words left his lips. He shook his head in amusement and joined in. Her good humour really was contagious. He knew she would just love the next part of the story.

“Judge Morris was livid, told me to remove my client before he and his family disgraced the ‘noble and solemn tradition of military justice’.”

“He did not!”

“Those exact words, Mac.” She laughed even harder. “I took them into the nearest conference room and tried to calm all parties down. By this time, the female petty officer – P.O. Graves – came into the room because she thought she had missed the hearing and was looking for an update. He may not have wanted to flirt with the appearance of impropriety, but he had no qualms about flirting with Linda Graves in front of his incredibly upset and very vocal mother.”

“You’re kidding, Harm.”

Like he could even make this stuff up. “Swear on my wings. I didn’t know what to say. They were not acting like just friends. I considered leaving the room when he jumped into a ‘just friends’ speech with his mom. That stopped me in my tracks but only increased his mother’s anguished cries. I think she and I agreed that they were not fooling anyone.”

“Well,” she was still merrily giggling away, “maybe they’re just so comfortable with each other they don’t even realize how their interaction could be misconstrued. They could be only friends.”

Was she kidding? If she had been in that room with him she would not even have considered entertaining the idea that those two were friends. “No way, Mac. You didn’t see them. I thought the conference table between them was going to burst into flame, the way they were looking at each other.”

“Alright, then,” her voice was soaked in disbelief, “what was his alibi, where were they?”

This really was the best part of the whole story. “A video arcade.”

“You’re joking!” She burst into a fresh round of laughter and he felt immeasurably satisfied.

“Nope. Scout’s honour. Here’s the restaurant,” he glanced over at her. “Want to make a run for it?”

------

What was taking her so long? The woman could strip a gun in a matter of seconds, but when it came to unlocking his front door, she was suddenly Slow-Poke McDawdle. He would have bet his plane she was deliberately taking her time to spite him for grabbing their dinner and briefcases and rushing to the building entrance before she could. He was now holding said dinner and briefcases and trying not to drop it all. And he was drenched. He was just trying to be nice to her, but heaven forbid the marines allowed someone to do them a favour. It was not as though he did it because he saw her as helpless or thought she would melt if she didn’t have an umbrella. He just wanted to do something for her and didn’t know how else to do it. It was also his way of silently apologizing for letting Coward Harm get the upper hand in his internal debate so far this evening. He watched their covers slide towards the edge of the briefcase. Damn. They were about to fall-

He was relieved when she finally was kind enough to open the door for him. He quickly dumped the contents of his arms on the floor and bent down to untie his shoelaces.

“You should have let me carry the food, Harm.” He wanted to say that he was just trying to do something nice for her but before he could get a word in, she added, “don’t move. I’ll get you a towel. No point in you getting water all over the place.”

“Thanks.” He was relieved that she had left it at that. He remembered one incident early on in their partnership when he had unlocked and held her car door open for her. She had confused the hell out of him by telling him off for his archaic behaviour. She wouldn’t even let him sputter out an apology and then had not spoken to him for a full day. He felt as though he had been hit by a stampeding herd of caribou. It was progress that she had only so far criticized his actions once and in such a sweet tone.

He was suddenly hit in the head by a towel. Alright, he could concede that progress was slow. He looked up to see her holding a gym bag. He had meant to return that to her ages ago. Just as well it was here, though, she could change before they ate.

“Oops, sorry.” She said this not looking in the least bit look sorry. “Just testing your amazing pilot instincts.”

He laughed. That was a good one. He would have to retaliate in due time. “I meant to return that to you,” he looked at her gym bag, “kept on forgetting.”

“Not a problem. I’m going to change in your room.” As she said this, his attention was suddenly diverted to the uniform that was plastered over her body. He struggled to keep his gaze fixed on her gym bag and not her glistening legs, let alone the other parts of her he had no business looking at. She continued oblivious to his discomfort, “The umbrella was little help with all that wind. I’m all wet.”

Holy shit. He quickly turned his attention back to his shoelaces and mumbled out an inane “make yourself at home, Mac.” He cursed his stupid brain for taking her words in the absolute dirtiest way possible. Breathe, Rabb, breathe. Just don’t think about a wet, naked Mac changing in your bedroom. He jerked his shoelaces open, finally, and took of his shoes. He tried to distract himself by taking off his coat and attempting to straighten it. He was not really sure what he was doing, except trying to not think about her.

He suddenly felt her hand rest softly on his arm and turn him towards his room. “Go change. The food will get cold.”

He was relieved she gave his brain something to latch on to. He turned to face her. Her hair was slightly damp but the rest of her looked very dry and comfortable. He wondered if the track pants she was wearing felt as soft as they looked. He realized he had to distract her before she caught him taking a visual inventory of her. “In other words you’re hungry.”

“That’s what I just said. And you want to write a book on avoiding domestic turbulence.” Sarcastic Mac was back.

He rolled his eyes as he went to change. Leave it to her to bring the subject up again. “Don’t remind me. I still have to face the whole three-ring circus tomorrow.” He raised his voice so she could hear him as he entered his room. “By the end of the meeting this afternoon, the mother was asking me to intercede on her behalf.” He heard her laughter from the kitchen. He continued his monologue as he changed. “Think I could get my uniform laced with asbestos to keep from going up in flames when my client and Graves meet again?” She was still laughing as he made his way to the kitchen. She was standing by the counter, facing the take-out bags. He spoke only when he was directly behind her. She looked too relaxed, maybe he could make her jump. “As a safety precaution...” She jumped at his words. Mission accomplished. “Skittish, marine?”

She ignored him and turned to open the take-out bags. “I’m starving. The food smells wonderful.”

Maybe she would go out for dinner with him to the Thai restaurant. That would be a nice evening. He decided to test the waters. “It was a nice place. Maybe we could go and eat in next time.” He opened the fridge door, “water? Or I have some orange juice. And some green tea.”

“Maybe.” She sounded noncommittal. Either she had just shot him down or she had not understood his subtle hint. He was a master of the subtle, after all, and she was a marine. They weren’t exactly known for their tact. She changed the subject, “Water is fine, thanks. And asbestos is unnecessary. Maybe you should just take your client’s word on the nature of his and Graves’ relationship.”

How could she still insist they were ‘just friends’? Those two could have lit up Times Square at Christmas with all the heat their gazes for each other held. In front of his mother, no less. “They are not ‘just friends’, Mac.” He said this in a way that left no question about how delusional he thought she was. “They were kidding themselves, for some reason. His family would be my guess. You should have seen the way his mom was glaring at Linda Graves. He had better be worth it for all the crap she’ll have to go through with the in-laws.” He looked over at the take-out bag she was emptying. The restaurant forgot the chilli sauce and chopsticks. He wasn’t going to take her to dinner there if their service was so poor. “They forgot the chilli sauce and chopsticks. I think I may have some around here, somewhere.”

She rolled her eyes at him before turning her attention to finding chilli sauce. “Maybe they are ‘kidding themselves’ right now.” She was using that tone that she had to know annoyed him. He rolled his eyes – on principle – as he started removing the lids from the take-out containers and scooping their dinner onto plates.

“I’m not saying they always will be, Harm. Some people aren’t meant to be only friends,” she continued speaking as she moved around his kitchen. “Just like us.” His arm stopped mid-motion, a spoonful of rice still in his hovering hand. He must have misheard her. It was unlike her to be so open about this. They had never discussed it. He looked over at her. She was standing with a hand in his cutlery drawer, unmoving. She must have let that slip without intending to. Question was: what was he going to do about it? An epic battle between Coward Harm and Daring Harm was taking place in his head. This was the perfect opportunity to follow through on the intention that had led him to inviting Mac to have dinner with him in the first place. She looked crestfallen, standing by the drawer. He could not do that to her. Coward Harm be damned. Besides, she was right: they were not meant to stop with friendship. They both knew it. He was going to do something about it.

He noted with satisfaction that there was a sudden shift in her demeanour. She straightened herself and went from shocked and afraid to resolute. That was his marine, right there. Or at least, he hoped she would soon be.

She was studying him intently. She looked wary. He smiled at her, which only seemed to increase her confusion. Time to bite the bullet, Rabb. Land this tomcat.

“Definitely not.” Nowhere in ‘bite the bullet’ was there a clause requiring him to be direct and forthright. So he liked veiled statements. Sue him. Marines could be tactful if they tried. Really.

She was still staring at him intently as though she was trying to discover some as of yet hidden territory. He tried to show her what he felt. He watched as she slightly squared her shoulders, she probably didn’t even know she was doing it. “So, where does that leave us?”

She had understood him. He almost wiped his brow with relief. Her eyes remained fixed on his and he decided that any price was worth but a moment of her singular attention being focused solely on him. It made him feel taller and stronger and braver. And happier.

“In a better place, Mac.” He brought his finger to trace the line of her cheek and his smile widened at the realization that she was letting him touch her in this way. He was sure his hand had never felt more worthy of the life given it, than it did at this precise moment as it traced the softness of her skin. When she smiled at him, he was sure his eyes felt the same way.

His admiration of her soft, glowing, gorgeous skin was cut short by the sound of her laughter. He raised an eyebrow at her and made an effort to make the gesture as flirtatious as he could. She had to know what a big step this was for him. For them.

He thought his heart would beat out of his chest when he heard her next words. “Show me.” Her eyes were slowly, lovingly exploring his face. He felt her cool fingers at the base of his neck. “Show me.”

He would show her so thoroughly she would forget every time before this when he had sidestepped the issue and she had let him. She would forget what colour the sky was and what ice cream tasted like. She would forget that she had ever wanted to be with any man but him. He took a step towards her, trying to memorize the look on her face, the expression in her eyes. He put one hand beneath her chin and the other trailed down her arm before he wrapped her in his embrace. Nothing had ever felt like this to him. It was as though every moment of desire he ever had felt in his life before this moment was only a shadow to this, this thing coursing through him. Test runs before the real thing exploded into his life in marine green and fiery independence, laying claim to parts of him he never thought he would be able to give. Their lips met in a slow, languorous, loving kiss that made him forget what kissing was before Sarah. They parted and he gave her that same flirtatious look.

She was rubbing her hands up and down his chest, over his stomach and shoulders. Her gaze was smouldering. And when she repeated his words back to him, “in a much better place,” Brave Harm took up permanent residence in his heart. This, her – he knew – was something he would fight for until the sun refused to rise.

He struggled to keep his head level as he felt her hands caress him, as he felt her touch him in ways that were so new and so wonderful. And hot. He wanted nothing more than to haul her into bed, slowly take off every piece of clothing she wore and run his hands and lips and tongue over every inch of her, tasting everything he had seen but never touched, everything he had never seen but always fantasized about. He wanted to hear her say his name, not in that uniquely exasperated way, but in a new uniquely passionate way, full of lust and love and want and abandon.

But this was not the time for that. He forced himself to remember the soft, caring, affectionate facet of his feelings for her. Passion would come, he knew it would, he could feel it. But he knew equally well that Mac would never give herself to him in the way he wanted her wholly and completely if she didn’t think he treasured her the way he knew he did. And he knew he would never be satisfied unless he had parts of her that no one had ever seen before. It was time to try distracting her with food again. Hopefully it would stop her from touching him the way she was doing right now.

“Mac.” His resolve almost fled when she raised her eyes to meet his.

“Have dinner with me.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion and she glanced at their take-out, which was still lying on his kitchen counter. “I thought I was.”

Subtle and round-about hints obviously weren’t going to work this time. “No. I mean, not like this.” How could he ask her this? He had no idea. He looked around the room for inspiration. None struck. Maybe it was time to redecorate his apartment. He gave her his best rakish smile. “A proper dinner. The kind where neither of us gets a wink of sleep the night before because we’re too nervous and excited. Where you spend all day deciding what to wear and I spend all day trying to figure out where to take you, what kind of flowers to buy you. The kind where I show up 15 minutes early and you’re ready 15 minutes early because we’re both so terrified of being late. Where I pull out your chair for you at the restaurant and you think I’m a true gentleman. Where we’re both too nervous to eat and try to make intelligent and funny conversation to impress the other. Where I forget all the punch lines to the jokes I rehearsed and you laugh anyway. Where I drop you home after and spend the whole elevator ride trying to decide if I can kiss you goodnight and then building up the nerve to give you the kiss. Where I spend the whole ride home trying to convince myself that if I call you the next day and ask you out again, you’ll say yes.” He finished his speech and realized how awkward that all sounded. He hoped it wouldn’t be like that between them. He wouldn’t let it.

“Sounds horrible. I think I may have to turn you down.” He couldn’t help his smile at her typical Mac response. He suddenly felt incredibly excited at the possibilities that loomed ahead of them.

“Let me try again,” he decided to give her the same smile he had earlier that afternoon at the office, when he offered her take-out and a ride to the garage. It had worked then, it would now. With the added bonus of killing any awkwardness. “Want to go out on a date, Mac? With me? Dinner and a drive?” He added an extra heaping of charm, “we’ll spend an evening together.”

He watched her face assume the expression it usually did when they were teasing each other. “You don’t have plans, Don Juan?”

His smile widened and he ran his hands up and down her sides, from her hips to the curve of her waist. This new method of teasing was definitely better than the old version. “Only if you say yes.”

“Alright. On one condition.” She grabbed his hands to still his caresses and looked at him, mischief dancing in her eyes.

So like her to make demands before the first date. “Making demands already, Mackenzie?”

“Thank your client and his girlfriend for me.”

Ha! He decided that he had just won their first ‘official’ difference of opinion as a couple. He was about to lay on the gloating full force when his brain and mouth were halted by another mind-blowing kiss. This new version of teasing was definitely way better. Once this make-out session concluded, he was going to find new and wonderful ways of putting it to good use.