Title: Male Models & Bowls of Fruit

Summary: Harm finds out that Mac has a talent for drawing, and ends up modeling for her. Harm/Mac romance.

Notes: This was inspired by Catherine Bell's Instagram post today of her Johnny Depp drawing. It's going to be short (three/four parts) and sexy. Haven't decided *how* sexy, so the rating might increase at some point.

Part One

"Hey."

I look up and can't help but smile. Harm is leaning against my door frame looking so unbelievably good. Dress whites are definitely overrated – I'll take this man in blues over the whites any day. "Hey." He grins and he swaggers into my office. I have no idea how he can turn a whopping three steps into a swagger, but he manages to do it. "Need something?"

He nods and crosses his arms over his chest. "Yeah. The Goodman file."

I scan my own office and frown. "Why? We closed that case months ago."

"I know. But I think a few of the experts we used would be helpful for the case I'm working on now." He turns to face one of my shelves and runs a finger over one of the messy stacks, and I blush. I really do need to get more organized… He pulls out one stack and begins to flip through them, orienting the tabs so they're going in the same direction. "Geez, Mac. Some of these are from two years ago."

I stand and make my way to him, and take one of the stacks. "I know. I'll get around to it sooner or later."

"Sooner would be preferable." I roll my eyes, and he grins. I know he's used to this by now, and I think he'd be genuinely sad if he came in my office for a file and it was exactly where it was supposed to be.

We flip through the folders in companionable silence for a few minutes. He finishes with his first stack and places it back on the shelf, and reaches for another. Harm flips through those, with a little more speed than the first stack and then stops suddenly.

"What's wrong?"

Harm shakes his head. "Nothing. This one isn't labeled." He sets the top half of the stack back on the shelf and opens the folder that caught his attention. The sharp intake of breath is enough to make get my attention, and I turn my attention to him.

"What?"

He turns to me with wide eyes and holds up a single sheet of paper and my face is instantly red. How in the hell did that get mixed up with my work files? I reach for the paper, but Harm is faster (and much taller) and holds it out of my reach. He turns around and lowers the paper slightly and examines it carefully.

I contemplate reaching for it again; feeling like my odds are better now since he's distracted by it, but I don't. He's seen it now. My shoulders slump, and I turn back toward my desk. "Harm…"

He stares at the piece of paper for another moment – the heavy, high-quality piece of drawing paper covered in gray pencil lines – and then looks up at me. "What is this?"

I shrug. "A drawing."

He looks down again and swallows. "Did you draw this?"

I bite my lower lip and shrug nonchalantly. "It's nothing."

"It's… It's something." He continues to stare at the drawing, and runs his fingers over one of the graphite lines. "Did you draw this," he asks again. His tone is softer this time. It's almost gentle.

I puff out my cheeks and slowly exhale. "Yes, I drew it." I shrug again, and twist my Marine Corps ring around my finger.

"Who is he?" I'd be lying if I didn't say that the hint of jealously in his voice gives me a tiny thrill.

"I have no idea." His head jerks up and his wide eyes meet mine. I can't help but smile at the scandalized look on his face, and I look at the drawing of an incredibly attractive man with shoulder length hair, and the kind of muscular thighs that my dreams are made of. "I take classes over at The Art League when I can." I gesture at the drawing. "That guy is a male model we used last year."

"Ah." His face relaxes and he takes one last look before handing it back to me. "I've known you for six years, Mac. How did I not know that you draw?"

"It's a solitary hobby, Harm." This isn't something I talk about – not ever. I never told Dalton or John or Mic – hell, I don't even think my uncle knew. I tuck the drawing back in the unlabeled folder and toss it on my desk. It's something personal. I force a smile, and try to push aside my discomfort. "Anyway. I can keep looking for that file. I'll bring it to you when I do." Harm keeps his beautiful blue eyes focused on me, and my smile falters and I let out a sigh. "What?"

"Is it awkward?" I raise an eyebrow and he gestures at the folder I had just tossed on my desk and reaches over to shove my door shut. "Drawing a naked stranger. I imagine it's uncomfortable."

"Not really." I move around my desk and sink into my chair. I can't believe I'm having this conversation with him.

"Why not? It's a naked man."

I can't help but smile. He's such a prude, and I absolutely love that about him. "Exactly, Harm. It's just a naked man. I've seen a few of those throughout my life, and he had the same parts as the rest of them." Now he's the one blushing, and I feel a familiar fluttering in my belly. He's adorable when he blushes. "If you've seen one naked man, you've seen them all." He scoffs and I smile. He and I both know that my statement is absurd. I mean, just off the top of my head, I imagine that a naked Harm would cause a different reaction in most women than a naked… a naked lesser mortal.

"But nudity usually leads to something sexual. Does it not…" His cheeks redden a little more and he gulps and makes a vague hand gesture. "Does it lead to anything in these situations?"

I shake my head. "Not for me." He looks skeptical and I smile. "For me it's not any different than drawing a bowl of fruit." He snorts and I can't help but laugh. "It's not awkward or sexual. Want me to prove it? I can draw you."

All of a sudden it feels like the air has been sucked out of the room. It's suddenly a hundred degrees in here and my smile fades. I imagine a nude Harm posing for me, and I feel a jolt of arousal at the thought of spending hours studying his perfect ass and his muscular calves and his… I swallow hard. He moves closer to my desk and leans forward, placing his hands on the edge.

"You want to draw me?"

His voice is husky and deep and I squeeze my thighs together. "I'm just saying if I were to draw you, it wouldn't be awkward or sexual." I lick my lips, and his gaze drops to my mouth. "It wouldn't be for me, anyway."

He opens his mouth to say something – probably to call me out on the whopper of a lie I just told - but before he can get a word out, the phone on my desk begins to ring. The noise breaks the spell that had wrapped itself around us, and he straightens while my hand falls to the receiver.

"I'll let you get back to work."

I nod and my hand tightens on the phone. "I'll see you later." I wait until he's out of my office and I pick up the phone. "Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie." I'm only partially paying attention to the person on the line. My eyes and my thoughts are on Harm, and on what he looks like out of that uniform, and how I would give anything in the world right now to be alone in my bedroom with my arsenal of vibrators.

End Part One.