Mac had a very busy week last week. There were four days in a row where He didn't make it home until I was either already in bed, or almost there. We had very little time to talk. Most nights all Mac wanted to do was get undressed and climb into bed with me. He would be asleep before I was.

This was not at all His fault. He was finishing off the second big presentation He had in two weeks. It was one of those make or break things, the impression He made will affect the next job He is offered. He wants to be able to negotiate and not have to accept anything He is given. I want Him to be able to negotiate too.

Still on the fourth night when I sat down to dinner with only the cats for company, I couldn't help but be a little cranky. I know He has to work, I know it is for the good of us, but can't it lighten up a little? What good is it to us if He is at work 24 hours a day? (Yeah I know it wasn't that bad and it was only for a few days, but did I mention I am a little highly strung at the moment and likely to exaggerate a little?) So I was cranky, really cranky that He wasn't home with me, not at Him, but at the situation and our inability to do anything about it until the presentation was over.

And as I pouted my way through dinner with my thoughts getting darker and darker on Him not being with me, I realised that I felt utterly miserable because of His work, so He should feel miserable too, right? Right? I mean, if I am not happy, He shouldn't be, because lets face it, working 16 hours a day is great fun isn't it? I was certain He was having a great time without me. (Did I mention I might be a tad unstable at times?)

I didn't stop it until I was already back upstairs and trying to paint again. I felt lousy, really miserable and I just didn't have the energy to make the paintbrush behave properly. The more I thought about it, the more I thought that perhaps, just perhaps, I was being a tiny little bit unfair on Mac and maybe, just maybe, working such long hours in an effort to make sure everything went smoothly was not exactly the party that I was thinking He was having. Suddenly I realised that all I wanted to do was kiss Him. I just wanted to hold His face in my hands and gently kiss His lips. Just because it would be a nice thing, for both of us and I wanted to be nice to both of us. I needed to be nice to Him. I needed to.

So when I heard the car outside I went downstairs and was waiting at the door when He came in. He visibly tensed when He saw me, I could tell just by looking at Him that He was waiting for the onslaught. He expected me to be cranky, He was ready for the fight and it convinced me even more that kissing Him was the perfect thing to do. So I did. Just a quick soft kiss. Nothing huge.

"Oh." Mac said and as I slipped my arms around His neck I felt Him relax. The tension just ran out of Him.
"Oh what?" I murmured in His ear.
"Oh that was a nice kiss, baby. Just what I needed." He said shrugging out of His coat and wrapping His arms around me.
"Me too, Babe. Me too." I kissed Him again.

So instead of us spending the time we had cold shouldering the other, or fighting over things we couldn't change, we spent the time we had laughing and snuggled up together, being lovers and the best of friends.

There are times when He needs me to be there for Him. I am not the only one that benefits from who we are. Lately Mac has started to say more often that as much as I belong to Him, He belongs to me. I am Mac's Sarah. He is Sarah's Mac. He needs me to remember that when He is as busy as He was.

The presentation came off perfectly.

We spent most of Saturday celebrating.

It was lunch time before we made it out of bed.