Disclaimer: None of it's mine, never have been, never will be...unless of course you count...no, wait, that was a dream.

AN: a jagified SVU fic of mine. I am working on From the Ashes but it is slow work...also quite unwell so that's slowing the process even more...enjoy this in the meantime.

-bestfriend-
Five minutes before six on a frosty Wednesday morning saw Harm sitting in his still cold car, waiting for Mac out the front of her apartment. An early morning wakeup call from Cresswell told them both they had a new case which required their urgent attention. He tooted the car horn twice, not wanting to get out and face the bitterness of the morning again. Mac's response came in the form of a brief text message 'Sorry Harm – 10 mins'.

Harm jammed the heater up as high as he could, pulled his jacket collar up and shoved his hands into his pockets. The radio droned on with endless commercials before Queen's song 'You're my best friend' sang out. He rested his head on the seat, closed his eyes and for the first time actually listened to the lyrics. It surprised him the only visions which came were of Mac.

Ooo. you make me live
whatever this world can give to me
It's you, you're all I see
Ooo, you make me live now honey
Ooo, you make me live
You're the best friend
that I ever had
I've been with you such a long time
You're my sunshine
And I want you to know
That my feelings are true
I really love you
You're my best friend
Ooo, you make me live
I've been wandering round
But I still come back to you
In rain or shine
You've stood by me girl
I'm happy, happy at home
You're my best friend.
You're the first one
When things turn out bad
You know I'll never be lonely
You're my only one
And I love
The things that you do
You're my best friend
Ooo, you make me live.
I'm happy, happy at home
You're my best friend
You're my best friend
Ooo, you make me live
You, you're my best friend.

There were visions of Mac sitting at her desk staring intently at him, Mac working at her computer, the glow of the monitor making her eyes glisten. Mac sitting next to him on their way to some interview or other, her perfume staying with him, long after she'd gone. Mac at the bar swirling the ice cubes in her tonic water with a twist, laughing at some comment of his. Mac chatting with Harriet, her guard down and her face animated with delight. Mac hanging out with their god kids, relaxed and friendly.

It was to his utter surprise he realised Mac was his life; he was, in fact, in love with her. He had known for quite a while he loved her, what man in his right mind wouldn't? He'd bet his right arm Cresswell, Bud and Chegwidden had all loved her too, in their own way. But this was different, he was in love with her, not just lust, not just wanting to get her into bed but love, the happily ever after, forever and ever love, something he had never had with anyone else and that realisation shook him to the core.

He had spent a very long time telling himself she was his work partner and that was it. He had encased himself in denial and was happy living that way. He got to see her everyday and couldn't, no, wouldn't, ask for more, but denial wasn't going to be a place he could escape to anymore.

Vigorously, Harm shook his head. How the hell had this happened? When did he cross that line between loving her and being in love with her? Why did he come to this revelation pre-dawn on a Wednesday morning in December? And the $64,000 question: what the hell was he supposed to do about it now?

The song long over, he was still in his realisation induced shock when Mac opened the car door and slid into the passenger's seat.
"Morning, Harm," she said brightly, as she clicked in her seatbelt.
"Er, ah, morning Mac," he replied, trying to shake himself out of his daze. The scent of her perfume not helping matters at all.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, I just couldn't seem to get my act together this morning," she apologised.
"That's okay," Harm replied, "having difficulties of my own."

Mac scanned the car, then the street, before looking back at Harm and wondering why he still hadn't put the car into drive.
"Any reason why we're not going?" Mac asked after another minute passed.
"Oh, no, sorry, just not quite awake I guess," Harm said, before shifting gears. He scanned the street and pulled the car into traffic.

They travelled along in silence and although it wasn't unusual for them to be this quiet in the early hours of a working day, Mac knew it was a different type of silence. She couldn't help but wonder if she had done something wrong because the way he was looking at her just wasn't right.

Just as she was about to broach the subject, Harm pulled the car into a parking bay at the hospital and her chance was gone. They climbed out of the car and walked into the hospital. Harm introduced them both to the young doctor on duty before they were ushered into the Trauma Room 2.

The young man lying on the bed was Ensign Adrian Cummings and he had been severely beaten for the second time in six months. Harm and Mac had represented him in the previous case against a civilian named Bruce Waterhouse, a case which had seen the perpetrator jailed for six months. He had been released in four, courtesy of the influence of his father, Andrew Waterhouse, City Councilman Andrew Waterhouse.

Their inquiries were fairly straight forward, Adrian had been out the previous night with a group of friends celebrating the birthday of one and had come across Bruce, with a group of his own, celebrating his early freedom. Words were exchanged and while both parties had moved on, when Adrian got to his doorstep in the early hours, Bruce Waterhouse was waiting with a piece of fence paling he'd pulled off a nearby fence.

CCTV vision from a nearby bank, put Bruce clearly in the frame and Harm and Mac knew it would be an open and shut case. As they continued to ask questions, Harm's cell buzzed and he excused himself to answer it.

As he was pocketing his cell, Mac exited the room and made her way towards him. She flashed him a smile and although he'd seen it many times this time it went straight to his heart and made it skip a beat. "Are you okay, Harm?"
"Yeah, fine," he recovered. "Find out anything else?" He nodded in the direction of the trauma room.
"Nothing for the case," she said, smiling appreciatively as a nurse handed her some coffee. "Adrian did say he will be requesting a transfer out of DC to anywhere in the world."
"Don't blame him," Harm said, he'd be doing the same.

Back at headquarters, Harm contacted the police officers who had been called for Adrian the night before while Mac contacted the lawyer Bruce Waterhouse had engaged previously. It didn't surprise them, given the evidence, that Andrew Waterhouse was prepared to expedite the situation to avoid negative media in an election year.
With only the formalities left and the morning gone, Mac headed for Harm's office.

"Can I buy you lunch, Harm?" Mac asked as he looked up from his paperwork.
"Um, eh, yeah I guess," Harm replied, not at all sure lunch with Mac was a good idea.

Seated at the coffee shop at the end of the block, Harm looked over the menu. He'd read it three times before anything really registered.
"Sir?" The waitress was still waiting.
"Oh, um, whatever she's having is fine," Harm finally answered before handing the menu back and clasping his hands together.
"What's up, Harm?" Mac asked, concerned about her partner's behaviour.
"Nothing. Why do you ask?" he replied, hands still firmly clasped.
"Well, we've been here so often you know the menu by heart, you never eat anything I choose and you keep looking at me strangely," Mac said, watching his face intently.
Harm said nothing.
"Have I done something wrong?" she finally asked.
"NO!" he said loudly and abruptly, surprising even himself. "What I mean is, no, Mac, you haven't."
"And why do you keep calling me Maaac?" she asked.
"That's your name," he replied, confident in his answer for once.
"Yes it is, but usually it's Mac, today it's just been Maaac. Are you sure you're not mad with me?" she asked.
Harm smiled, he definitely wasn't mad with her, quite the opposite, but telling her was just too difficult.
"Ah, a smile at last," Mac said. "So, you want to tell me about it, Harm?"
"Um, yeah I do…Mac," he said, forcing himself to say her name as casually as possible. "But not here and not now. How about dinner on Friday night?"
"Fine, Friday night it is." Mac smiled and nodded. "Sure it's not a date?" she added jokingly. It was enough to make Harm choke on his Pepsi and cause him to splutter it back out over the table. He turned red with embarrassment and Mac didn't know what to do.

The two and a half days between Wednesday lunch and Friday dinner were excruciatingly long. Both avoided the topic masterfully and Harm was working overtime to ensure he didn't slip up and do the wrong thing, whatever that may be. They had one case and a mountain of paperwork to occupy their time but frequently Mac would look up and find him pretending not to look her way through the bullpen glass. Friday afternoon saw them split up; Harm was at headquarters doing paper work while Mac was out with Bud. Instead of coming back into the office, she had Bud drop her off at her apartment. She and Harm hadn't quite discussed where they'd go for dinner but Mac wanted to look halfway decent.

She had showered, dried her hair and changed four times unable to decide on an outfit. By the time Harm knocked on the door she had reverted back to tight fitting blue jeans and a long sleeved white tee. She'd see what he was wearing and change accordingly.

"Hi, Harm," she said, swinging the door open. She couldn't help but laugh out loud when she noted Harm's matching outfit.
"What's so funny, Mac?" he asked.
"Nothing, come on in," she gestured.
"Look Mac, I know we didn't decide on a place for dinner. I was hoping we could just order in. Is that alright with you?" Harm asked.
"Sure, what do you feel like?" she asked and he had to bite his lower lip to prevent his first answer slipping out.
"Anything's fine by me. What do you want?" he asked.
"Chinese? We could order the usual. How does that sound, Harm?" she asked, moving towards the phone.
"Sounds good to me."

The television on low provided some background noise but it did little to hide the uneasiness between Mac and Harm, the longer it went on the more self conscious he got. He knew it was his idea to have dinner and talk this through, it had also been his idea to stay in but now his ideas had some to fruition he had no clue as to what to do next.

Mac settled beside him on the sofa.
"Talk to me, Harm," she finally said after watching him intently study the ad for Burger King on the TV. He considered the way he should phrase things. Coming straight out and saying 'well, Mac, it looks like I have fallen head over heels in love with you, so there you have it' didn't quite seem the way to go.

"Harm, we can talk this through," she said. "We've been together a long time and you're my best friend, you know that, right?" He smiled at her use of the lyrics which had triggered this whole situation. He nodded.
"Whatever's happened, you can turn to me," she continued. He nodded again. Then silence ensued.

Both jumped when the delivery man banged on the door. Harm got up and paid the man before setting the bag down on the coffee table. He opened the bag and gave Mac hers but she set it back down on the table, knowing she couldn't eat until this ever expanding knot in her stomach disappeared. She also knew the only way this was going to happen was by Harm actually talking to her and telling her what was going on.

"Aren't you eating?" he asked, noting her actions but she shook her head.
"Not until you talk to me, Harm," she said, before reaching out and taking his food from him.
"Look, Mac," he began before taking a deep breath.

Instinctively, Mac reached out and took his hands in hers. He looked at their joined hands and then up into her face. For the first time he noticed just how scared she looked. "No, Mac, Mac," he said quickly. "It's nothing bad, really. I mean I don't think it's bad, you might but it's not really…bad." He shook his head after stumbling through his little speech.
"Then what it is, Harm? Please just tell me." The waiting was becoming too much.
"Mac, something's happened. I don't know when exactly and I don't really know how but it has happened and for the life of me I just don't know what to do," he finally said, but it gave her no relief.
"What is it that happened? Something with Mattie? Your mom? What?" Her mind was spinning; she'd never known Harm to be so confused.
"No, not with anyone else, with me…with you," he said quietly.
"What happened?" she asked, grasping his hands more tightly, hoping it would give her answers.
"It…um…seems that…um… somewhere along the way…I…um…" He stopped and drew a breath. "Let me start again. The other morning I came to the realisation that I…well, it seems I…" He stopped again and shook his head. He'd never done anything so difficult in his life.

Mac scooted along the sofa and put her hands to his face, desperate for him to complete a sentence.
"What did you do?" she asked, holding his face in front of hers and making him look at her.
"I fell in love with you."

Mac dropped her hands but continued to stare at him. She went to speak and then stopped. Harm had little else to say. A short silence followed.
"You fell in love with me?" Mac finally asked.
"Yeah, I did, Mac," he said, dropping his head.
"And this is the bad thing that's really not that bad that you don't know what to do about?" she asked, repeating his earlier words.
"Aha," he muttered.
"Harm, look at me," Mac softly ordered, he did. "What would you like to do about it?" she asked as her eyes sparkled.

He gave her a half smile and raised his eyebrows, she could read his mind.
"Then do it," she whispered.

Harm moved forward and kissed her. Gently at first but when he realised she was responding in kind, he deepened the kiss and tangled his fingers through her hair. In all too short a time, she broke away.
"You want to know something?" she asked, still breathless.
"What?" he managed, noting the deepening colour of her chocolate eyes.
"I love you too, Harm." She moved forward and kissed him, forcing him back onto the sofa, he went willingly pulling her with him.

With their bodies entwined on the sofa on a cold Friday night in December, words were no longer necessary.
"Ooooooooooo," was Mac's last clear comment on the new arrangement.