Title: Trampoline

Summary: Mac injures her back, and Harm almost throws his out, jumping to conclusions…

Mac is hobbling. Or limping? I don't know what the proper terminology is, but she looks uncomfortable, and she's been in her chair for most of the day, and I'm dying to know what happened. Did she fall while running? Did she try to move a piece of furniture by herself? If she's moving furniture, why didn't she call me and ask for help? I would have been happy to help her. I would have brought my toolbox, and we could have spent the whole day moving things around. And then I could have taken her to dinner, and then I would have taken her home, and maybe she would have invited me up, and we would have watched a movie or something. And then perhaps I would have kissed her at the end of the night, only it may not have ended with a kiss – maybe she would have invited me to spend the night.

Whoa. I shake my head, and my eyes go wide at the direction my thoughts have taken. She's my friend. When did I start fantasizing about kissing her and taking her clothes off?

Okay. If I'm being completely honest, I've been fantasizing about that for years – almost as long as I've known her. But the fantasies were different. They were the kind of fantasies you have about an actress or an underwear model. You know – completely unrealistic and never, ever going to happen. But now… the fantasies are getting more realistic. More mundane. I mean, hell. I'm fantasizing about moving furniture with her for fucks sake.

I look through the window that connects our offices and see her shift uncomfortably in her chair. Okay, that's it. I stand and make my way out of my office and into hers. I don't knock, and she smiles when she looks up. "Hey!" Her eyes and smile are bright, and I think my heart literally skips a beat.

Jesus Christ, what's wrong with me?

"Hey," I manage. "Everything okay?"

She looks confused, but the brightness in her eyes doesn't dim. "Of course, I am. Why?"

I shrug. "You were limping earlier. Just thought I'd check on you." Her cheeks turn the prettiest shade of pink, and I think my heart skips another beat. Damnit. At this point, I'm going to need to visit a cardiologist.

"Oh, that," she waves a delicate hand and smiles. "I went to a party this weekend, and I think I threw out my back."

"A party?"

"Mm-hmm," she says. She takes a sip from the coffee cup on her desk. "Yeah. A friend of mine from Duke invited me."

My heart is now doing other things… like beating twice as fast as it should. What the hell is she doing going to parties with old classmates? Was it a male classmate? And how do I ask without sounding like a jealous jerk? "Oh yeah," I ask in what I hope is a nonchalant manner. "Did you have fun?"

She smiles, and it's the big, beautiful smile that I absolutely love. "Yeah, I had a great time. But I think I partied a little too hard, hence the back." I force a smile, and she leans forward. "But thanks for coming to check on me. That was sweet of you."

"Of course," I say. "You're my friend. I was concerned. Her phone begins to ring, and she reaches for it.

"Colonel MacKenzie." She smiles even brighter, and I suddenly feel a little queasy. "Hey, how are you." She laughs and leans back in her chair. "I'm fine. My back still hurts, but it was worth it. I had a great time." She laughs again, and I can't stay in her office for one more second. I start to creep toward the door, and she puts her hand over the mouthpiece and looks at me. "Thanks again for checking on me."

I force back the lump in my throat and nod. "Yeah. Anytime, Mac." She uncovers the phone and resumes her conversation.

"Tell Logan we'll have to do it again sometime," is the last thing I hear before I close the door behind me.

I think about her for the rest of the day. About her and the friend who invites her to parties and about Logan. I have so many questions about Logan. Like, who is he? Where did she meet him? Is he the friend from Duke? Or did the friend from Duke introduce her to him? Is she interested in him? Have they already made plans to go out again? Am I just going to have to sit back again and watch as she plans a life with another man? I swear I don't think I can go through that again.

She's already left for the day when I finally pack my briefcase and leave headquarters. I head home, but the whole time I'm driving, I'm thinking about her, and next thing I know, I've turned onto H Street NW, and I'm heading to Georgetown. It's not a long drive, and when I pull up in front of her building, I'm relieved to see that her lights are on and her red car is easy to spot. I find a parking spot, and hurry up to her building and ring the bell. It takes a while for her to answer the door, and I bounce on the balls of my feet while I wait. She finally opens the door, and just the sight of her makes me want to salivate. She's wearing low-slung plaid pajama bottoms and a gray tank top with the tiniest straps I've ever seen. A patch of toned, tanned stomach is visible between the top and the pants, and I itch to run my fingers over it.

"What are you doing here?" She greets me with a smile and holds the door open for me. I step inside and look around her space.

"Am I interrupting anything?"

"Not at all." I shut the door, and we move further into the apartment. She's still limping and then gingerly settles onto the sofa. "Just spending some quality time with my heating pad."

"Anything I can do?"

She shakes her head, and I sit on the edge of the coffee table. She watches me for a second, and then I take a deep breath and ask one of my many questions. "So, who is Logan?"

She frowns, and I can see my question has confused her. I see the moment she realizes what I'm talking about. It's almost as if a literal lightbulb lights up over her head. She smiles and doesn't break eye contact. "Logan is the four-year-old child of my friends Sam & Mallory."

A child. Logan is a child. I think I would sell my soul to disappear through her floor right now. "Ah." She raises an eyebrow, and I wince at my inane comment.

"He had a birthday party this weekend, and the children seriously outnumbered the adults, so Mallory asked if I could come to lend a hand."

"Ah," I say again, and now I want to bang my head against her coffee table repeatedly.

She's still smiling at me, but it's a different smile than I usually see. She looks like she's teasing me, but it's also a little seductive. "The party was at a trampoline park, and I apparently impressed the kids with some of the tricks I can do." I open my mouth and realize I'm about to say 'ah' again, so I bite my tongue. She shifts, and her top rises just a little more. "So… Why are you here, Harm?"

"I – I don't know."

I swallow, and she leans forward a little bit. "I think you do."

I back away from her, feeling a little overwhelmed by everything I'm currently feeling, by her closeness, the sexy tank top, and the elation that rushed through me when I found out that Logan was a child. "Would you like a backrub," I blurt out.

Okay, I have no idea where that came from. And I seem to have shocked her as well. Her eyebrows nearly disappear into her hairline, and her mouth opens slightly. Then she does something that surprises us both, and she nods.

"Yeah, okay." I swallow, and she looks around. "Where do you want me?"

"Couch is fine," I say. God, that's a loaded question, and I think I'm going to black out. "On your stomach." She nods and stares at me for another moment before she rolls over and folds her arms under her head. I move from the coffee table and perch next to her on the edge of the couch. The first touch is tentative. I move my hand to her neck and give a gentle squeeze; then I move my hands over her shoulders and down to the small of her back. I slide my hands under the hem of her tank top and push the fabric up just a bit. My hands feel massive against her, spanning the width of her back. I apply pressure in the center and then move my hands to her sides. A sound escapes her, and I press a little harder. "Is this okay?"

"God, yes." I swallow and begin to knead, pushing my fingers into her warm, soft skin. She makes another noise, and this time it actually sounds like a moan. "You're good at this," she says, her voice muffled.

"Thank you," I say.

"Your hands are warm," she says. I don't say anything this time. It doesn't require an answer; instead, I push my hands a little further underneath the top. She stiffens slightly, but before I can pull my hands back, she props herself up a bit and looks at me over her shoulder. "Should I take my top off?"

Her voice is low, and now I do pull my hands back. "What?" She sits up and turns to face me. Her top Is disheveled, and her nipples are hard, and I can't remember the last time I was this turned on.

"Why are you here, Harm?"

I swallow hard. I start to tell her that I don't know, but I can't bring myself to say it this time. I want her more than I've ever wanted anyone in my life. I was so jealous earlier, and I'm so tired of feeling that way anytime another man is in the picture. "You should take off your top," I say.

She toys with the hem but doesn't lift it. "Tell me why you're here."

"I was jealous of Logan." She lifts the top a tiny bit. "I was jealous of the friend who invited you to a party." I reach over and place my hands on her waist. My thumbs toy with the hem of the shirt, and my eyes meet hers. "I can't sit back and watch you start something new with another man. I know this time it was a married couple and a four-year-old, but next time…." I shrug, and she smiles, covers my hands with hers, and then pulls the top off and tosses it aside.

"You don't need to be jealous of anyone," she says softly. I struggle to look at her face and not her remarkable breasts, and she reaches for me and tilts my head up. "I want you, Harm. It's always been you." She gingerly moves and settles on my lap. She's straddling my legs, and then she's lowering her lips to mine, and she's kissing me. I wrap my arms around her, and her mouth opens to me. I kiss her until I need to breathe, pull away just long enough to catch my breath, and then kiss her again. But I need more, and I already know that when it comes to her, I will always need more. I need to touch her and taste her, and I need to know what sounds she makes when she comes. I lift up enough to put her on her back and cover my body with hers. I kiss her, and then move my lips down her throat and eventually take a nipple into my mouth. I suck and lick, enjoying the sounds escaping her and the way her fingers tangle in my hair. I tug gently with my teeth, and this time she hisses in pain.

"I'm sorry," I say and lift slightly. "I can be more gentle."

She shakes her head and smiles. "No, you're perfect. It's just my back. It's a little tender."

Shit, her back. I had completely forgotten about her back. "I forgot about your back," I confess.

She smiles and shrugs. "I forgot about it too for a second." I pull away from her, and she scoots up. "This may have to wait for a few days," she says. "But will you – will you stay tonight?"

I kiss her again and nod. "Yeah," I say. "I'll stay tonight."

The End.