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 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.

Note: This part does get smutty.

Epilogue - Mac

Two Years Later

I'm putting the finishing touches on his gift when I hear the front door open. I hurriedly finish tying the bow, and then push the neatly wrapped gift to the center of the kitchen island. He comes into the kitchen and I barely have time to speak before he hurries to me and pulls me close. He greets me with a deep kiss that makes me sway against him, and when he pulls back, he lifts me onto the counter.

"Hey gorgeous."

I lean in and kiss him again. "Hi." I tug at his tie and smile. "You should greet me like this more often.

He raises an eyebrow and nudges my legs apart, the purple wrap dress I'm wearing allowing easy access. "Oh yeah?"

I tilt my head and close my eyes and his lips move over my neck. "Mm-hmm." He reaches for the tie of my dress, and I feel my body begin to react to him. I should stop him, but I'm not sure I want to.

"What time do we have to be at dinner?"

Damn. His voice is muffled since he says the words against my neck, but they're still enough to douse a little cold water on the mood. I gently push him back and scrunch my nose. "I almost forgot about dinner."

He grins and tugs at the tie. "Making Sarah MacKenzie-Rabb forget about dinner at her favorite restaurant is quite an accomplishment." He starts to push the silky fabric apart, but I slap his hand away.

"We have to be at dinner in 40 minutes."

His face falls, and I hurriedly tie my dress back together. He puts his hands over mine and unties it again. "That's plenty of time."

"It's a twenty-minute drive, Harm."

He shrugs and flashes me his famous smile as he tries to pry my fingers away. "Typically, this isn't something I'd boast about, but there have been occasions where I've made you come in much less time than that."

I snort and shake my head. "You're giving a whole new meaning to the 'flyboy' nickname." His eyes go wide and I can't help but laugh. I push his hands away, and then reach up to cup his face and rub my thumb over his cheekbone. "But no. A quickie will not fully satisfy me right, and I don't want to be frustrated at dinner."

He lets out a resigned sigh, and leans forward to kiss me. "Fine," he says. "I'm going to go change." He helps me down, and kisses me again. "Be right back."

I beam at him and straighten my dress. "I'll be here." I watch him walk away and let out a deep breath. I still can't believe that man is my husband. Today is our first wedding anniversary, and there are still days where I wake up to his warmth body pressed against mine and I have to pinch myself to make sure that it's all real. Being married to him is so much better than I ever dreamt it would be. It's fun and sexy and passionate and comfortable all at the same time, and the past year, two years actually, have been the best of my life.

It doesn't take him long to change, and when he returns to me, he's wearing perfectly fitting chinos and a pale blue button-down shirt and I'm filled with pride that this man is my man. My husband.

Dinner was wonderful, as usual. We had talked about trying to snag a reservation at someplace special, but we ended deciding on a Mediterranean place we both love. It was a challenge not to stuff myself with octopus and marinated olives and mushroom couscous, but I managed to show some restraint, and now I'm ready for the more intimate part of our anniversary.

Harm walks into our house behind me with his hands on my hips and spins me to face him once the front door shuts. "Can I undress you now?"

I roll my eyes at him. "One track mind, I swear. And no. Presents first." I take his hand and lead him to the kitchen and nudge the box on the island toward him.

"Open mine first," he says, and then turns to the cabinet over the fridge - the one I hate and never use - and pulls out a small box. He grins sheepishly and hands it to me. "It's not paper."

I frown slightly. The weight of the box makes me think jewelry, and I start to tell him he shouldn't have when he shakes his head. "Mac, if I had gone with a paper gift it would have been plane tickets to somewhere exotic, which would have cost much more than what's in the box."

I let out a breath and open the small white gift box, and then pull out a smaller black velvet jewelry box

I slowly open the box and stare down at one of the most exquisite and unique pieces of jewelry I've ever seen. The metal is a matte gold, and there are two sapphires - one large, one a little bit smaller, and three smaller diamonds were on the other side of the larger stone. "It's beautiful," I say softly.

"It was my grandmothers," Harm says, and

I look up in surprise. Sarah Rabb had passed away not long after our marriage. It was a peaceful death – she was 86 years old, and died in her sleep. But I know Harm still thought of her every day. "It's was kind of hers," he amends. He smiles plucks the ring out of the box and looks at it. "I found this company that takes the components of old jewelry and melts it down to something new." He ran his finger over the center stone. "This was the sapphire from her engagement ring." My eyes widen and he continues. "And the smaller sapphire and diamonds came from an earring that was missing its mate. And the actual metal was from hers and my grandfather's wedding bands.

"My grandmother was so annoyed that I didn't propose with her ring." He picked up my right hand and slid the ring onto my fourth finger. "She'd be overjoyed that I gave it to you in a different way." He brings my hand to his lips and places a gentle kiss on my knuckles. "Happy anniversary, sweetheart."

"Happy anniversary." I hold out my hand to admire the ring, and then look up at my husband, and feel my cheeks heat "I feel bad though; your gift isn't much compared to this."

"That kind of thing doesn't matter to me. I'm sure I'll love it." He reaches for the box and fingers the silvery ribbon and I'm suddenly feeling a little shy. He unties the ribbon and I watch as he carefully unwraps the box and pulls back the tissue paper. He goes silent, and I feel a tightness in my throat. "Since the traditional first anniversary gift is paper, I thought…"

He stares at the drawing for a long time, and when the silence has just started to make me antsy, he looks up at me. "It's incredible, Mac. How… Who…?" He's having trouble forming the question and trails off. I know what he's trying to ask though, and I gesture at the corner where I used the embosser I bought after we were married to stamp my initials into the paper.

"I drew it," I said. He looks back down at the drawing, and his brow furrows. "Agnes - an instructor at the art studio - took a photo and printed it for me. Then I sketched it from the photo."

I'm obviously nude in the drawing, and I'm posed the same way Harm was in the drawing I did of him, just facing the opposite direction. My hair is messy, a little of my face is visible, there is a slight curve of breast, and the rest is just back and butt and legs. It turned out so well, if I do say so myself, and I've been dying to give it to him.

"Do you like it?" He nods, but doesn't take his eyes from it.

"It's perfect, Mac. I love it." His finger hovers over the pencil line, and he finally looks up at me. "Thank you."

I smile. "You're welcome."

"Can we hang this up?" My cheeks instantly heat and I open my mouth to say no, and but the look in his eyes stops me. "We'll hang them in our bedroom where they're just for our eyes only," he says. "Side by side. High quality frame, proper matting. They're too good to keep hidden."

The compliment sends a flush of warmth through me and I nod. "Okay."

He grins and leans in to kiss me. "It really is perfect. Thank you." He carefully puts the drawing back in the box.

I shrug and fight back a smile. "It was either that or a drawing of a bowl of fruit."

He bursts out laughing and my heart flutters. I love making him laugh like that. "If you're going to remind me of that first night we spend together, you have to let me undress you."

I roll my eyes. "Seriously, a one-track mind."

He rolls his eyes and then gestures to the box and steps closer to me. He reaches for the tie on my dress and gives it a gentle tug. "My unbelievably sexy wife just gave me a nude drawing of herself, and then referenced the very hot first night we spent together." He separates the tie, and then parts the fabric. "How could my mind be anywhere else?" He pushes the fabric off my shoulders, and he sucks in a breath when the purple dress falls to the floor. His eyes move over my body; taking in the white lace push-up bra and matching thong.

"Like what you see?"

His eyes darken and his jaw clenches. "I love what I see." His hands move to cup my breasts and he runs a finger over the edge of a cup. His eyes notice the front clasp, and he flicks it open and pushes the straps down my arms and the white lace joins the dress. His hands move to my waist, and he easily lifts me and sets me on the counter. My legs instinctively part for him, and when he lowers his head to tease my nipple with his tongue, I run my fingers through his hair and hold his head in place. His tongue becomes more aggressive, and then he's sucking and teasing me with his teeth.

"More," I manage to gasp out. He looks up and meets my eyes for a moment, before moving to my other breast. I close my eyes, the rush of pleasure almost making me black out. "More," I say again, almost pleading this time. "Harm, more please."

He drops a hand from my breast, and slides it in between us. His hand slides over the lace thong, and then he tugs it gently, and his fingers move under the lace and then one slides inside me. I gasp, one hand tightening in his hand, and the over one digging into his back. His finger moves inside of me, his thumb grazes my clit, and I can almost instantly feel my orgasm start to build. It isn't long before I begin to pant his name and he pulls his other hand from my breast and holds me close as I come.

After a moment, my breathing has started to return to normal, and he pulls back just enough to look at me. "Okay?"

I nod. "Okay is an understatement." He smiles at the throwback to our first night together and brushes my hair off my forehead. "Want to head upstairs?" I run my hand over his chest, and down the front of his pants. "You've been neglected."

He grabs my hand and shakes his head. "I have a better idea." He puts his hands on my ass and lifts me up. My legs wrap around his waist and he carries me into the living room and to the couch. He begins to unbutton his shirt, while my fingers work his belt and the button on his pants, and it's only a moment before his clothes are forming their own pile on the floor. He sits, and pulls me on top of him, my legs straddling his. He angles himself, and then pushes inside me. We both moan at the first contact, and he begins to rock his hips. "I love you," he whispers. "I love you; I love you."

I close my eyes as another orgasm begins to build and hold him tighter. I love this man so much.

A while later we've finally made it up to our bedroom, and I'm finally satisfied and spent, and am curled up against him. "You know," I say softly, "I don't know if nude art is all that appropriate when we have kids."

He scoffs. "That sculpture mom has in the living room – the one with-" I cut him off; I know exactly which one he means. He laughs and runs his hand down my arm. "She's had that since before I was born. I'm not traumatized by it."

"Yeah, but it's not one of your parents. You can see our faces in my drawings."

He shrugs. "Fine. Once our kids get old enough to where it matters, we'll stick post-it notes over certain areas." I laugh, and he pulls me closer and kisses my forehead. "Speaking of kids…" Our eyes meet and he swallows hard. "We hit another important milestone this year." I sit up quickly, and he follows. "What's wrong?"

"Has it really been five years?"

He nods and I let out a breath. "Wow."

"Are you ready," he asks? "We've only been married a year, so if you want to wait longer, we can. I just wanted to let you know that I've been thinking about it lately, and I am ready."

"You're sure," I ask? God, I hope he is. I've been ready to start trying for a baby for a while – almost since the day he asked me to marry him, but didn't want to rush him.

He pushes me down gently and hovers over me once he has me on my back. "Of course, I'm sure." He lowers his lips to mine and the thought of throwing my pills away gives me such a thrill. He moves to the side and props himself up on an elbow. "Do you think we would have ever gotten to this point without your confession to Sturg?"

I nod slowly. "Yes." I look up at him, and I want to cry thinking of the time we wasted and the time we would have continued to waste if Sturgis hadn't told Harm to set me free if he wasn't interested. Would we have carried on as friends and colleagues for a few more years? Would there have been other lovers? I shake my head, trying to rid myself of the thought of being with anyone but him. I reach over and stroke his cheek. "You're the love of my life, Harm. One way or another, this was destined to happen."

He smiles, and it's the smile that makes my heart beat faster. "I think so too." He shifts and is once again hovering over me. "So, yes on having a baby?" I nod and he beams. "Want to start trying now?"

I laugh and run my hands over his chest. "My pills won't be out of my system for a few days."

"We'll practice then. I am an old man, after all. The practice will do me good."

I snort and he grins. I always knew it would be wonderful between us, but I never expected this. I never knew there could be so much laughter and happiness and teasing and want. I loved Harm the day I made my confession to Sturgis. And I loved Harm on the day I confessed to him. I loved him when we got engaged and when we got married, and when I held his hand at Sarah Rabb's funeral. I've loved him on the big days, and on the small days, and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I will love him and our future children every day for the rest of my life.

The End.