It is one of those days.
Mac had the dinner with Clay all mapped out – the fact that she liked take-out didn't mean she couldn't cook herself – but Clay hadn't picked up his phone when she had tried to reach him trice today and he hadn't called her either.
Five months of dating a spy meant that Mac could relate.
"Calling it a day?" Harm asked when he ran in on her leaving her office, her briefcase in one hand, her coat over her arm. He seemed to be on his way back to his office from a meeting, a stack of folders under his arm.
Mac stopped at his sight. "Yeah." She was unwilling to go home. There were two steaks in her fridge she did not really want to think of.
"I was just dropping this off before leaving." Harm indicated at the files. Then his eyes raked over her face. Mac quickly tried to school it into a passive expression. "You have dinner plans?"
Taken aback, she squinted. "Actually… But no."
"You up for a girls' night? With one exception, of course. We're having hamburgers."
"Tofu burgers?" Mac was unable to suppress a smile. "Does Mattie like them?"
"Real meat for the girls," Harm conceded; a smirk on his face. "Care to join us?"
"I think I'd like to."
Mattie and Jennifer's apartment was of similar built as Harm's, something Mac had noticed immediately. There were traces of him strewn all over it, too, from the way the kitchen utensils hung from the fume hood to the style of the (self-built) bookshelves. But there were obvious signs of female influence scattered everywhere, too, and a couple of school books. It was a comfortable place. A home. And it was nice having dinner with someone else except herself; listening to Mattie telling stories about her school day, watching Jennifer interacting with the girl as if they were sisters and Harm was their – well, if not father then guardian, at least. Mac caught Harm smiling more than once. It made him look softer, somehow. Maybe it just was the light. Mac liked the atmosphere, and the people. Mattie, Jennifer, Harm and herself: it felt like family, somehow.
When she finally left, Harm accompanied her to the elevator. The question that had haunted her for quite some time fell from her lips unwanted.
"Are we friends again?"
In the light of the corridor Harm looked strange, both terribly familiar and alien.
"I never stopped seeing you as a friend."
Mac heard the words and knew: It wasn't exactly the truth. But who was she to push away a hand extended in apology? At least she preferred to think of it that way. So she smiled.
"Good."
"Night, Mac," Harm said as the elevator doors closed soundly. "See you tomorrow."
Mac rode the lift in silence and drove home.
Clay hadn't called.