A/N: This is what happens when the author suffers from typonese and creates new words. My brain knows how to spell, it just doesn't always transmit to my fingers. It happens more often than I would like to admit! This story only contains Harm and Mac, when they were still just "friends."

Pajavas

It's late when Harm leaves the office, after 2100 hours on a Friday night. It's been a hell of a week, and he is definitely looking forward to relaxing this weekend. Well, as much relaxing as he actually does. He realizes when packing up his briefcase that Mac left the Simmons appeal in with the Daugherty file. She was bouncing ideas off him earlier this afternoon and she must have forgotten to pick it up when she was summoned to the Admiral's office. He knows that she was planning on working on it this weekend, so he decides that a trip to Georgetown isn't too far out of the way on his trip home.

The knock on her door surprises her, who would be coming by this late on a Friday night. She looks through her peephole to find 6'4" of summer whites worn by a man glancing at the ceiling. She opens the door, slightly puzzled as to why Harm would be dropping by this late and states, "Hi partner, what are you doing here so late? And don't tell me you were just in the neighborhood."

The file folder held behind his back is momentarily forgotten as he takes in her attire. She is wearing a short sleeve top and matching cotton boxer type shorts covered in cups of coffee. She looks good enough to eat, err...drink. He replies, "Cute nighttime attire you have there, Mac. Personally, I prefer the flannel cowboy ones, but it is rather warm to be wearing those this time of year. It would figure that you would have something covered in that high-octane junk you drink all day."

Mac rolls her eyes at her partner, as she invites him in. She chuckles, "They're called pajavas, Harm."

Harm outright laughs, "Pajavas? Don't you mean pajamas?"

Mac smiles at her play on words, "Nope! anything covered in coffee is definitely referred to as java. Speaking of, would you like a cup?"

Harm smiles, "As long as you promise not to make it Marine grade, that would be great."

Mac walks into her kitchen to start the coffeemaker while Harm seats himself on her couch. She calls out, "You didn't tell me why you came by."

Harm replies, "You left the Simmons appeal in my office. I happened to find it while I was getting together my files. I knew you wanted to get started on, so I figured I would be a nice guy and drop it by on my way home."

Mac walks back into the living room with two steaming cups of coffee, and hands one to Harm, exchanging it for the file. She sets it down on the table, and sits next to him on the couch. She replies, "Thank you. That will save me a trip to the office in the morning."

Harm smiles, "You're welcome." He takes a sip of the coffee and makes an offhanded remark, "This cup of coffee is almost as perfect as the ones you are wearing."

Mac blushes as the compliment. She teases, "After this many years as partners, I should know how you like it."

The temperature in the room has just increased several degrees, and a welcoming aura is surrounding both of them. Harm catches the double meaning in her words, and this time he isn't going to back away from it. Harm sets his coffee down on the table, and turns to look at her. He moves his head closer to hers, his eyes glancing down at her perfect lips. Unconsciously, Mac's tongue slips out to moisten them, and Harm leans over and gives her a soft, sweet brush of his lips over hers. He withdraws, and Mac follows, seeking more, nibbling on his lower lip for a moment before slipping her tongue into his mouth in invitation. Harm eagerly accepts, and what started out as something innocent, spirals into a soul burning desire rather quickly.

When they are forced to separate to draw some much-needed air into their lungs, Harm is the first to speak. He can see the desire swirling in her chocolate orbs that is probably mirrored in his own eyes. He wants this woman badly, but he also doesn't just want to fall into bed with her. He traces circles with the pad of his thumb on the inside of her wrist and quietly says, "Sarah, I want you, make no mistake about that. But I want more out of this than just one night. You mean so much more to me than that."

A single tear slides down her cheek as she looks into his eyes, seeing the truthful of his simple statement. They may finally have reached the same place at the same time. She replies, "I feel the same way, Harm. We've spent so long dancing around each other, that I want to do this right." She gets a coy smile on her face as she tells him, "However, I would love it if you would stay and just hold me in your arms for the night."

Harm smiles, before softly brushing his lips against hers again, "I can do that."

Mac stands up, and offers her hand to Harm.

He willingly takes it, and then groans.

Mac spins around, "What's the matter?"

Harm shakes his head, "Nothing. You'll just have to remind me in the morning that the first cup of coffee I 'm supposed to indulge in won't be the ones you are wearing."

Mac giggles, "That shouldn't be a problem."

Harm quirks his brow, "And why is that?"

Mac laughs, "Because you will be the one making the coffee in the morning, as well as breakfast."

Harm replies, "Of course, I momentarily forgot about that little requirement of spending the night with you."

Mac smiles, "That's what you have me for."

Harm tugs her hand and spins her back to him, "Agreed, counselor. But when we start spending every night together, we might have to renegotiate the breakfast terms."

Mac whispers against his lips, "I'm open to suggestions," before closing the last bit of distance and kissing him passionately.

THE END