Disclaimer: not mine
The mistakes are...

AN: this is one of my SVU ones I have jagified and is quite short...figured I'd post this while I'm working on a longer one which isn't going to smoothly. I've also written a Harm companion piece to this one which will be up shortly.

Mac stepped out of her clothes, into her bathrobe and tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the shower to heat up.
"Hurry up, hurry up," she muttered to herself, desperately hoping the flowing waters would soon ease all her tension and take her mind off the one thing causing it.

In the middle of her pleas, she heard a knock on her front door and decided to ignore it, the knocking continued.
"What do you want?" she yelled exasperated.
"Mac, open up, it's me!" Came the reply. Mac rolled her eyes; Harm was the last person she wanted to see.
"I'm about to have a shower and go to bed," she yelled back, not mentioning sleep – she hadn't really slept all week and tonight probably wasn't going to be the exception.
"Sarah MacKenzie, open the goddamn door!" His frustration at his partner was reaching new levels.
"Harm, go home and I'll see you tomorrow."

She dropped her robe and stepped into the shower. Beads of water ran over her hair and down her body but gave her no release from the tension she felt.

Damn him, she thought to herself, he's the reason I'm so bloody tense in the first place. She shook her head, how had it got to this stage that her partner of ten years could drive her into such a state?

It had all started last Monday; well technically, if Mac was to be truthful it was more like a year or three or five ago. Mac and Harm had been crossing K Street to talk to a witness. The traffic was heavy and the crossing lights not working. They decided to make a dash across the road and as they did Harm had caught hold of her hand, just as he would have done any time with their godchildren. The touch, however innocent on his behalf, had sent shockwaves through her body and she knew this time she couldn't deny the strong feelings she had for him.

As they stepped up onto the other kerb Mac thought he'd let go but he didn't. They continued walking towards their intended destination hand in hand; Mac was surprised he couldn't feel her pulse pounding through her fingers. At the bottom of the stoop Harm turned to her and began to talk but Mac's mind was elsewhere and her eyes were transfixed on their joined hands. Quickly Harm let go.
"Sorry Mac, I didn't even realise…" he said, a slight smile on his face.
"Oh, that's okay," she muttered, "I didn't notice myself." A slight reddening of her cheeks followed.
"It's just I had AJ yesterday and we…" Harm began.
"Really, Harm, it's fine." Mac said; it was the truth; his hand in hers was more than fine by her.

Monday's little contact was followed by Tuesday's bigger one. Standing near the elevator, waiting for the doors to open, they had been chatting casually when a less than coordinated delivery man came down the corridor with a huge trolley. Going left when he should have steered right, he succeeded in shoving Mac out of his way and straight into the arms of Harm. It was only a brief encounter but the scent of his aftershave had remained with her for the rest of the day, and night.

While she had gone to sleep easily, torrid dreams of Harm ensued, each one causing more and more tension until at 0300 she finally got out of bed and pulled out her current favourite toy and a fresh set of batteries.

Wednesday had come and gone and with Harm tied up in court and Mac allowed herself to breathe. However, without him close by, she found herself looking at his empty desk imagining all sorts of activities they could do on top of it. It was in the middle of one of these little trips into fantasy, one where she was sitting on his desk dressed in a red camisole and panties, her legs wrapped around his waist, his stonewash jeans around his ankles, he returned from court and spoke to her.
"What?" She heard him say confused.

Mac shook her head and wondered what she'd actually said. As it dawned on her, her face turned a deeper colour than the underwear she's just imagined.
"Um, I said I think I need a …truck," she said, focussing intently on the notepad in front of her.
"Why on earth would you need a truck?" Harm asked, still confused.

Mac um-ed and ah-ed until Cresswell called them both in and saved her from any further explanation.

After less sleep Wednesday night than the night before, Mac had turned up for work Thursday very tired and irritable. She knew it wasn't Harm's fault after all he'd done nothing to her. This realisation itself began to annoy her.

How could he not do anything to me?
What's wrong with me?
Why do I want him if he doesn't want me?

A myriad of thoughts swirled through her head, so much so that by the time he appeared at her office door she just wanted to slap him. Instead, she opted to ignore him. If she didn't talk to him, didn't look at him, didn't think about him she could get some work done. Her plan failed.

Before lunch Cresswell sent them out on a case, a case which put them in the same car together for the best part of the afternoon. Harm tried to talk to her but she wouldn't respond. Instead she put her head back on the seat, closed her eyes and feigned sleep. She convinced nobody, least of all herself.

Instead she was stuck inches from him, inhaling his aftershave, listening to him hum away to some love song on the radio. I wonder how those lips would feel humming on my…

Her thoughts were broken by a car horn. But that night her fatigue induced sleep allowed her to find out just how it felt. So much for Thursday.

Friday morning arrived and Mac told herself that if she could get through this day then she was home free, over the weekend she'd convince herself she was overreacting to Harm and by Monday all would be back to normal. She'd just take one hour at a time. 0800 all was well, 0900 and things had fallen in a heap.

Harm had appeared in the bullpen in his dress whites. The uniform fit him perfectly and seemed to be drawing out the colour in his amazing blue eyes. Those same blue eyes which were now gazing curiously at her, looking beyond her chocolate eyes and into her soul.

She shook her head vigorously when she caught herself wondering how those same blue eyes would look on an adorable three year old daughter with brown curly hair as she bounded down the stairs to unwrap her presents on Christmas morning.

"Mac?" She looked up. "Mac, you okay?" he asked, concern spread across his face.

Mac did the only thing possible; she jumped up, ran to the restrooms and hid out until she was suitably composed. When she returned some fifteen minutes later Harm was sitting on her desk waiting for her.
"You want to explain what's going on?" Harm asked even more concerned than he had been earlier.
"Look I'm fine – last night's dinner I think," Mac lied.
"Are you sure? You haven't really been yourself all week," Harm said, reaching out to touch her, she recoiled and he was stunned. "Sarah MacKenzie," he whispered loudly, "what is going on?" Each word was enunciated clearly.

Before she could answer a petty office came in. "General needs a volunteer to do a school group tour arriving in ten minutes in the car park."
"I'll do it," Mac said, grabbing her jacket.

Harm had waited patiently in his office for Mac to return from her tour guide duties, determined he was going to take her out to dinner and sort out the issues of the week once and for all. His plan was missing one key thing – Mac. She had snuck back into her office and departed without him seeing her before heading home. Her thinking was that this way she wouldn't see Harm and would hopefully be able to get over him by Monday.

With the cold water now cascading over her and Harm at her door, her plan wasn't succeeding. She turned off the water, stepped out, wrapped a towel around her and opened the door to her bedroom, totally surprised to see Harm sitting on her bed.
"Glad to see you didn't disappear down the drain," Harm said smiling.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Mac said a mix of fear and worry in her voice.
"I am waiting for you. Waiting for an explanation as to why you're treating me like crap," Harm said, not moving from the bed.
"How did you get in?" Mac held the towel tighter, aware that it only barely covered her.
"I used my key," Harm's voice was so calm and reasoned it irked Mac more.
"That damn key is for emergencies only," Mac said, grabbing at the set of keys in his hand.
"This is an emergency, Mac. Talk to me!" He grabbed her hand.
"No!" She tried to pull away but didn't succeed.
"Mac, did I do something wrong?" He pulled her back and tried to get her to sit with him, she wouldn't.
"No, you didn't!" she said calmly but her brain was screaming it.
"Then what, Mac?" he whispered tenderly, concern written in his eyes.

She could feel her resolve crumble, it happened every time he used that voice, every time she felt his hand on her…she shook her head, his hand was on her back, she was sitting on his lap…how did that happen? She tried to get up but his arms encircled her and she was trapped.
"Now, Mac, either you talk to me or I'll…" His voice hitched then stopped. He knew what he'd like to do but didn't think it was appropriate, mind you, neither was his partner sitting on his lap, with a thin layer of terry towelling separating her amazing body from him.

"You'll what?" she replied, catching the changed tone.
"I'll do whatever you want?" he replied, suddenly aware of the difficulties she'd been having that week.
"You will?" Delight and surprise crossed her face.
"Anything!" his voice a whisper.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him closer before gently brushing her lips against his. When he responded willing, she pushed him back on the bed and began unbuttoning his shirt, the same white one she knew she'd be wearing the following morning. She soon found he had discarded her towel and had tossed it on the floor before flipping them over and smothering her bare body with electric kisses.

Mac had very little sleep Friday night either but it was for a much better reason.