Title: The Price of an Apology
Chapter 1 - Too Much Work can be Bad for your Health
Summary: "You've missed our dinner two nights in a row Mac. I hope you have a good reason other than work for missing the third." When Mac fails to show up for dinner Friday night, what has happened? An excuse to back out? Or something worse? SMACKED Peril/Fluff
Disclaimer: I don't own Mac Taylor but I wish I did (course then I'd have no time to write! Lol)! This is a piece of fan fiction. It is written for pleasure and not for profit. The characters of CSI New York and any other regular cast and supporting cast members all belong to CBS, Paramount & Jerry Bruckheimer and Anthony Zuiker. All other characters are my own. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.
A/N: Okay so the ever busy and sometimes evil muse just popped this into my head and I had to run with it. It's a two shot only (grin) so never fear all my other stories will be updated once again in a few days!
Mac's head swims with dizzying pain, his eyes hurt to open them, his body hurts to move and his brain hurts to think. He forces himself to try to move to the left, but offers a cry of agony as something sharp digs further into the soft flesh above his left bicep and he quickly subsides. His lungs hurt to breathe from the beating he sustained; his head is pounding and his eyes blink away fresh tears mixed with blood and dirt from the blow to the top of his face he was forced to endure an hour earlier. Lying on his stomach in an inch of stagnant, rusty water and sludge, wrists cuffed together in front, gun missing and phone busted, his mind now races as to how he's going to free himself of his dark tomb. A tomb with no discernable escape route. Mac forces himself to at least roll off his winded chest, yelling out once more as he rolls onto his right side, his wounded arm feeling the strain from whatever is sticking into it; and then finally landing on his back. But as he does so, something falls on the lower part of his legs, pinning him back down to the soggy ground. He tries to move his body, despite the pain, to get up, but whatever is pressing down on the bottom part of his his legs and with the pain in his body, he can do little more but lie back; trapped.
"Damn...it!" He curses in whispered anger.
His cuffed wrists immediately try to move toward his face to take off the blindfold, but he offers a cry of agony as the item in his arm offers instant pain. However, knowing he can't just do nothing, he finally succeeds in yanking the piece of black fabric down to his neck and forcing his watery eyes to try to clear.
"Ste...lla..." he offers hoarsely as his mouth fills with dust and mold; forcing his lungs to constrict and his stomach to tighten. Whispered voices overhead seem to offer no hope of salvation and anyone he thinks might be passing within ear shot, wanting to come to the aide of a fallen officer he knows is a passing thought; a dream, a fallacy. He is trapped, injured and alone; unable to force himself to be heard or rescued.
"Help...me..." he coughs once more, squinting into the darkness overhead, seeing small beads of light, dancing and laughing, blurring as his eyes try to focus. He hears rats scurrying past, being drawn to the fresh scent of blood and sweat, human fear and adrenaline adding to the tasty mix; coming to feast on a helpless man, their fallen prey. He once again tries to move himself, wanting to at least try to sit up. But as the beam presses down further on his legs, he realizes with the item sticking in his arm he's unable to help free himself.
As he continues to move, Mac feels a sharp pain in his right leg and wonders if he snagged it on the fall down to his feared final resting place. Darkness threatens to consume him once more as he feels his lungs gasping for air, his head now starting to pound, ear drums about to burst. His stomach wants to throw out the small amounts of putrid water he was forced to ingest from the fall, but knows if he offers any stomach contents, he'll attract even more unwanted attention than he is right now from the local population and so has no choice but allow his tender lungs to force the bile back down into his sickened stomach.
"Stella..." he whispers in torment, his body on fire. However, as he lies in his dank prison, he can only curse his misguided intentions; fault himself for his actions and pray his whereabouts will soon be discovered before its too late. He closes his eyes, willing the throbbing to subside while he offers another prayer for help.
"Stella...you have...to find...me..."
~TWO DAYS EARLIER~
"Well this case just got a bit more interesting," Mac groans as he leans back in his chair, reading the report from Sid as Stella walks into his office.
"COD results?"
"Cause of death was two gunshots, from two different guns, fired at the same time, into the same place from two different directions," Mac huffs as he hands her the report.
"So much for a simple through and through," Stella sighs as she eyes the paper in her hands.
"Looks like an all-nighter," Mac sighs as he rubs his hands over his face, through is hair and then rests them on the top of his desk once more.
"Mac you need to eat," Stella gently reminds him. "You have missed meals for the past two nights you've told me and I refuse to allow myself to let you do this another night."
"Let me?" Mac arches his brows at his concerned partner. "Stella..."
"Mac there is a great little diner right next door," Stella mentions as she looks at her watch. "It's almost eight and we are once again the last two here. You need to eat and so do I. Flack has gone home and our perps are in lock up; both are waiting for us to return tomorrow. This can wait."
Mac looks at her and then at the small clock on his desk and knows she's right; his stomach also reminding him that he only had a few bites of vending machine crap for lunch and a real meal sorely needed.
"Mac?"
"I guess I should."
"Gee thanks," Stella replies in sarcasm.
"Sorry if it sounded that way," Mac states in quiet remorse. "I'm just tired."
Stella leans over and gives his nearest hand a gentle squeeze. "Then let me take you to dinner."
With a nod of his head, Mac finally agrees. "It'll have to wait until tomorrow."
"You know if we could do more, I would be the first to back you on that."
"I know you would," Mac rewards her with a warm smile. "Where to again?"
"Next door. I'll get my coat."
Mac watches Stella take her leave and then pushes himself out of the chair and slowly puts on his suit jacket; ready to follow her out. He heads into the hallway just as she catches up and offers her a warm smile.
"Detective Taylor?" One of the clerks asks as he rushes up to them.
"Yes?"
"I'm here to collect your case notes for court tomorrow?"
"Court...oh...right, damn it," Mac's brow offers a heavy frown as he turns to Stella with a sigh and a look of regret. He turns back to the clerk. "I'll have it to you in ten minutes. I'll bring it down."
"Very good Sir," he smiles as he takes his leave.
"Mac?"
"Stella, go ahead and get a table, I just need to add a paragraph about the ballistic findings."
"Which case?"
"Stetson."
"Ah, thought you had..."
"Yeah so did I," Mac huffs. "I'll be there...I promise."
"Just for that, you're buying," Stella smiles as she plants a warm kiss on his cheek.
Mac smiles but knows inside he doesn't really mind; he was planning to pay anyways. "See you in ten."
Stella watches Mac head back into his office, slump down in his leather chair and pull out the file to add his notes. She offers a weak smile before slowly heading for the elevator and pushing herself inside. The ride down to the main floor and then the slow walk to the diner force her brain to relive the past few days. Although it started out as a routine case, Mac had been under stress right from day one; more so than usual. She had tried to coax him out of his emotional shell on a few occasions; mostly to get him to open up a little, find out what was wrong, but he would put on his trademark, tight lipped smile and tell her everything was okay and drop the subject.
She was hoping that by them spending a quiet night away from the office, away from work or a case, that she could get him to open up even a little as to what was really eating away at him inside. I just need you to open up Mac, tell me what is wrong. What is really going on.
"Table for two," Stella requests from the hostess and then follows after the young woman into the dimly lit establishment and takes her seat in the small booth, watching the door for her partner; telling herself he'll be there shortly.
However, a few minutes later, she asks for a glass of water and then looks at her watch. Mac you have two minutes, her mind reminds her. But knowing how detail orientated Mac is and that he'd never allow anything with his name to go outside his office with just a half ass approach, she knows ten minutes would be stretched a little.
But as another ten minutes pass she looks at her watch again and offers a small ethnic curse before pulling out her blackberry and dialing Mac's number.
"Stella, I'm sorry. I just got a call from Streich's lawyer and said that Stetson is going to testify and..."
"Mac, can't it wait for an hour so that you can eat? It's almost nine now."
"I've started it now and..."
"And you want to remember it while it's fresh in your mind," Stella finishes with a heavy sigh.
"Sorry," Mac huffs.
"Sure."
"Still trying to get there," Mac offers.
"I could bring it up?"
"No. I'll try to make it."
Stella hears the fatigue in his voice and knows there is no way he'll be finished anytime soon. If both sides were going to take the stand tomorrow, she knows he'll make sure the report is better than perfect. So much for a quiet night getting to know Mac better on a personal level, she laments inside. She had used work as an excuse but in truth she wanted to just spend some alone time with Mac, her heart wanting more than friendship; a new future being pondered.
But as the minutes tick past, she wonders if he was just using work as another excuse to not get involved in anything social; therefore ensuring his heart and emotional future would remain locked in his shell, his impenetrable walls never to be breached by anyone. She knows his notes were already detailed so there really wasn't much else he could add. Maybe this is just his way of saying no in a polite way?
With a heavy sigh she calls over the waitress and offers a sheepish smile. "I'll have to see your take out menu."
"Thanks a lot Mac," Stella grumbles as her take out finally arrives and she slowly heads for home in a cloud of gloom and wonder. But instead of just dwelling on the negative vibes that she feels he is offering, she forces herself to believe it is just work and she'd see him tomorrow and that would be it. Maybe another opportunity will present itself? I don't want to seem pushy but Mac always said after Peyton, he was afraid to take another emotional risk; to put himself out there if the other person didn't want it as much as he. I do want it Mac, but do you want it as much as me? Can't you see that?
XXXXXXXX
Mac looks at his watch and offers an angry curse as he reaches for his blackberry two hours later. He dials Stella's home number, his heart racing and mind anxious. He had finished the file and then since he knew she had already left, decided to finish up a few more things; telling himself that she'd forgive him and tomorrow he'd try again. I feel bad, he huffs inside as he waits for her to answer.
"Am I calling to late?" Mac asks softly, looking at the time and offering an outward wince.
"You better be at home about to get into bed Mac," her sleepy voice automatically forces a warm smile to curl on his tired lips.
"I'm about to leave now. Stella I'm sorry about tonight."
"It's okay Mac."
"Stella, I..."
"Mac, it's okay. Just get some sleep."
"I'll try. Did you at least eat?"
"Alone," she states softly and he winces.
"Tomorrow Stella, I promise. We'll have dinner tomorrow night."
"Okay. Goodnight Mac," she tells him as the line goes dead.
Mac listens to the empty rings for what seems like an eternity, until he finally pushes the end button but the ringing still continues inside his head. He looks at the file before him and whispers an angry curse; mostly at himself. He finally pushes himself up and heads for his coat; putting it on and then heading for the elevator and then for home. For the past two weeks, Stella had tried to get him to spend some time with her outside of work but something always came up; usually work related and their alone time never happened. On a few occasions he had almost come close; telling himself that he would just take the chance and that would be it. But something always came up and he would once again retreat behind his invisible wall, waiting...
But as he finally lets himself into his quiet apartment, he knows inside it's time for his solitary existence to end, and now time to allow someone else to fill the void that has been eating away at him since Claire's death. Even with Peyton, his feelings about contemplating a secure future with another person, to want them, need them, and love them, didn't include her. But with Stella it was different. Their bond was so strong and he was afraid that by taking things past their friendship level, would strain things if both weren't interested. I have to believe she's interested in more, he ponders. She has hinted at it recently, his brain reminds him. I need her and inside I know I love her. Then tell her! His brain commands. You know you crave human touch when you are alone, he inwardly laments. And he knows if he waits too long the opportunity will be gone and he'll be forever lost. He knows inside there is no other woman for him. I just need to tell her that.
Mac wanders into his bedroom and slowly starts to shed his professional attire and put on something more comfortable to sleep in. Slowly climbing into bed and rolling onto his side, he allows his chest to offer a heavy exhale and closes his eyes; willing sleep to come. But all he can picture in his mind is Stella's disappointed expression, her eating alone, and his sleep for the rest of the night is fitful and restless; much like it has been for most of his adult life.
The next morning Mac wakes up early as usual and hurries to get ready, forgoing breakfast as per his normal morning routine and heading into work to get his day started. He stops by their favorite coffee shop; ordering her usual caffine infused drink as a peace offering. As he gets off the elevator he spies Stella at the end of the hall talking to Sheldon and looks at her with a slight frown. He watches as she turns to face him with a tense smile and feels his posture stiffen automatically.
"Morning," he greets her with a tired smile as he hands her a cup of coffee.
"Already got one, I'll save this for later," she replies with a kind smile as she turns on her heel and heads for her office. "Wasn't sure if you were in court or not."
"No thankfully," Mac gently groans as he follows after her.
"Did you finish everything you needed last night?" Stella queries as she sets down Mac's coffee beside the one she already had gotten for herself.
"I didn't mean to stand you up," Mac tells her gently.
"I'm a big girl Mac," Stella replies with a tight nod of her head as she turns to face him with a slight frown. "I'm glad you finished what you had to."
"I..." Mac starts as his phone rings. He reaches for it and offers a soft curse as he answers his phone. "Taylor. Yes Sir, it was finished last night. Yes Sir I did. Right."
"Sinclair?"
"Pacing back and forth outside the court house," Mac shakes his head in anger. "Wasn't enough that I..." his voice trails off.
"He's not questioning you Mac, he's worried about the outcome of this trial," Stella reminds him.
"As we all are. But if memory serves we have a case to get back two. Two bullets...two shooters..." Mac states firmly and she nods her head.
"I'll be right there," Stella tells him as he takes his leave.
He feels tension starting to grow and shakes his head, mostly at himself. I have to make it up to her tonight, he tells himself firmly as he sheds his suit jacket and heads back toward the lab. Before I lose her for good.
XXXXXXXX
Two hours into their new research, Stella looks up to see Mac muttering angrily under his breath and then puts something down and looks up, his eyes holding anger and frustration. She slowly walks over to him and takes the piece of evidence from his hands and starts to look at it in silence.
"Distracted?"
"Court."
"Ah."
A few minutes later she hands it back to him; problem solved.
"Thanks," Mac offers in a soft tone, his eyes not looking up to meet hers.
Stella's gloved hand gently rests on his and offers a loving squeeze, forcing his eyes to finally look up and lock with hers. "Needed a woman's touch."
"I'll check stria," he tells her before turning on his heel and heading out of the room, tossing his gloves in the garbage and leaving her in silence once more.
Stella watches him leave and then finishes the piece he was working on and then goes in search of her elusive partner once again. She slowly walks up to him and stands beside him, staring at the monitor in silence.
"The two guys Flack interviewed?"
"Solid alibi's," Mac informs her as he waits for the search results. "Just needed to double check. I hate being right."
"So this is why you have been angry for the past two days?"
"Angry?" Mac arches his brows, still not looking at her.
"Pissed off?"
"Frustrated," Mac interjects.
"Work or personal?"
"Is there a difference?" Mac retorts and Stella just shakes her head.
"Not with you and that is part of your biggest problem," Stella states gently.
"What does that mean?"
"It means you need to start putting a separation between Mac Taylor CSI and Mac Taylor regular guy," Stella tells him firmly.
"Stella..."
"Mac, I'm not going to tell you how to do that, certainly not here, but you need to realize that while it might be scary at first, letting go and allowing yourself to love and be loved is what you really need to keep you human."
But before he can offer another word, Stella turns on her heel and takes her leave; forcing him to wait for the stria results in silence. Once printed, he quickly retrieves the paper and then goes in search of his partner. And while he knows that right now is not the time or place to offer any kind of emotional confession about what he's feeling inside; he has to tell her that tonight is still on; no matter what. I have to start somewhere.
He pushes his way into her office and waits until she's off the phone.
"Mac?"
"What time did you want dinner tonight?" He asks in a somewhat nervous tone.
She looks at his nervous stance and rewards his efforts with a warm smile. "Mac you don't..."
"I know I don't have to," he huffs. "I want to. Please?"
"Seven?"
"We should have most stuff cleared up by then," Mac replies with a firm smile. "I'll swing by when I'm finished."
Stella watches him take his leave and feels her lips curl into an automatic smile. For him to make any kind of attempt, espcially in public, means there is something inside that he feels that is mirroring her to a small degree and that she needs to act on. I need to get him to open up tonight, she tells herself as she hurries to finish her stuff. I have to make him believe that I want more and that so does he.
A few hours later she closes her file and then looks at her watch. Almost time, I wonder if Mac will actually follow through? She waits about another ten minutes before she goes in search of Mac. She nears his office only to see him arguing with Sinclair and decides to hold back and wait.
The minutes slowly tick past and as she listens to the angry voices that are trying to keep things to a minimum she wonders what kind of mood Mac will be in for their dinner out together.
Finally Chief Sinclair takes his leave and she peers around the solid wall, into the glass window and gazes at Mac's tense body, stiff and angry. His back hardened, shoulders tense and fists clenched. He finally turns around but the smile he offers after an angry scowl does little to dissuade her anxiety inside. He gestures for her to enter and with a deep breath she accepts.
"Still employed?"
"For now," Mac gently barks. "Forgot to put on some of the ballistics details. Damn it!" He curses himself.
"Will it affect anything?"
"I...damn it, it could!"
Stella stands fixed in place, cursing herself for not being able to offer him any kind of consolation; at least none she would deem acceptable. She crosses her arms and offers a soft smile as Mac's angry blue eyes lock with her patient green ones.
"Sorry," he mutters in anger.
"I would be angry too if it was my ass on the hot seat," Stella agrees.
"Don't think I would make very good dinner time association," he growls, trying to calm his heart.
"Mac, I have seen you angry and the last thing you and I need is for you to sit here and stew about a mistake any human could make. You are human, you know that right?"
"Stella..."
"Trust me Mac, your blood is red, not green."
"But..."
"Need me to run a DNA check just to be sure?" She offers lightly and his scowl finally disappears.
"Sorry," he huffs, pushing a hand over his short dark hair.
"Don't be sorry, just get your coat and I'll meet you by the elevator."
"Are you sure you want this? I might not be..."
"Mac you need to relax and you need to eat. That day old sandwich you thought I didn't see you eat at lunch doesn't count."
"Why can't I win with you?"
"I'll tell you over the dinner you are buying me," she states firmly as she turns to leave.
"I suppose that's fair," Mac smiles as he watches her take her leave. "I'll just drop off this file with the clerk and meet you in the lobby."
"I'll be there."
Mac hurries to get his coat on and then takes the file in his hand and heads for the stairs. His lips have now curled into a soft smile as he nears the clerks desk. No matter his mood; his stance; the words he offers or the excuses he seems to make, she's always there; at his side, pulling him back up so that he can face the toughest fight of his life his love for her and a future for them. I love her. It's time to stop being afraid and tell her.
It's real; inside he knows it's real. She had asked him why he had been in such a bad mood and seemed frustrated all week long. He just wasn't able to tell her it was because he was struggling with his feelings for her and how to actually tell her that he wanted to entertain the idea of them seeing each other on a social level; to see if she too wanted to grow their amazing friendship into something even more amazing. However, his mind always told him he'd be rejected and so all week his inner battle to tell her or not, continued; forcing his mind and heart to wage a constant battle against each other; neither side winning.
I have to tell her. I have to tell her tonight, he confirms in his mind; his heart already in agreement. But just as he turns to head back, he's once again stopped by a familiar voice.
"Taylor!"
XXXXXXXX
Stella hears her blackberry buzzing to life and frowns at Mac's number before answering it. "I hope you're calling to tell me that you're already inside waiting for me."
"Stella I'm sorry but..."
"Mac, are you serious?"
"I'm here with Sinclair and Paulson. They want to go over the results for today and..."
"Right now?"
"It wasn't my choice."
"You always have a choice Mac," Stella reminds him with a heavy sigh. "But I understand."
"I promise I'll make it up to you tomorrow."
"It's okay."
"Work is..."
"Your life and the most important thing in it. Got it," she states sourly and he winces.
"Stella, I wasn't going to..."
"Goodnight Mac, see you tomorrow."
Mac once again was forced to listen to empty rings in his ear, offering himself an angry curse before he pasted on a tight fake smile and turned to his superior with a frown.
"Taylor, everything okay?"
"Not at the moment."
"Did you want to do this tomorrow?"
"No it's fine, can we just get this over with? It's late."
Oh Mac. Her mind laments as she once again stares at the empty seat before her and frowns. Maybe he really doesn't want to get to know me on a social level? Maybe he's trying to give me a hint and I'm the one just too blind to see it? Maybe he doesn't want anything more? Maybe he just doesn't know how, her brain insists. Maybe he just hasn't had to put his own needs first and needs another chance.
With another heavy sigh, shaking her head, Stella looks at her blackberry before typing a quick message and then heading outside into the busy traffic and then home. At first when she toyed with the idea of them taking things further, mentioning it with some hesitation, and he seemed open to the idea of exploring a social venue outside of work; where both could just enjoy each other without a case waiting to be discussed. Has that changed? It must have! Why all of a sudden this pull back?
"Stella, just get some sleep and that'll be it!" She commands herself as she enters her quiet apartment. At the end of a long, busy day she used to long for the quiet comforting solitude of home. But the past few weeks she had warmed to the idea of coming home to someone amazing like Mac, discussing the day, having dinner and then unwinding afterward.
"Mabye it's not meant to be," she lightly moans as she heads into the kitchen to partake of the leftovers from the meal he stood her up for the night before. Numbly going about her task, she tries to force her mind to just put Mac to the back, where she now feels he belongs, but her heart is once again telling her a different story. Give him one more chance, her heart suggests. He's just not used to putting his own emotional needs first. And she knows that to be true, for Mac Taylor, everyone comes first; himself last.
And as the night progresses she finally concludes that if he does ask, a third chance will be offered. "If he stands me up then I'll gladly be arrested for his murder," she gently smiles as she starts into her meal, flipping on the TV to fill the suffocating silence. Mac, I'm not ready to give up on us just yet. I pray you're not either.
XXXXXXXX
Mac looks at the message once more on his blackberry as he sits in the back of the cab on the way home. 'Mac, I hope I'm not pushing for something one sided? See you tomorrow. Stella.'
He could just picture her beautiful face, display a miserable expression as she wrote those few tormented words and immediately his heart aches. Now she thinks I'm avoiding her on purpose by using work as an excuse. And while he did have to get done what was asked, she was right, he always had a choice. He could have told Sinclair they could have met in the morning; surmising his superior wouldn't have been that mad, but in the past eight years, he's never put his own social agenda or personal life before work, so wasn't even sure how to formulate such a sentence. I have to tell her tomorrow, tell her or I'll lose her. And he was sure she had guessed that he just wasn't used to putting himself first but he wanted to. Inside he was sure of that, especially now.
Mac offers himself one more curse before he enters his lonely apartment and locks the door, leaning against it in sorrow. For a split second he can picture Stella's image before him, smiling as she waits for him to have supper with her; discussing their day before calling it a night. I want that.
"But it might never happen now," Mac groans as he takes off his coat and heads into the kitchen. He had some leftovers from the night before and so absently went about the task of getting himself something paltry for dinner. An hour later he had finally settled in his mind and heart that tomorrow night, Friday night he would make sure that nothing would keep him from his dinner date with his partner and best friend. If I screw up tomorrow, then she has every right to be angry with me more than she probably is right now.
Mac finally pushes himself into bed; but instead of being greeted by the blissful comfort of sleep, tormented images of his disappointed partner's beautiful face filling his head and his sleep is once again fitful and purposeless. He awakes the next morning, angry at himself and wondering what cold display he'll be offered today. Forgoing the coffee for Stella; mostly wanting to save himself yet another embarrassing heartache he hurries into the lab to once again find her already there, working.
He leans against the glass frame of her office door and smiles in spite of the tension that has now gripped his very being.
"Morning," she mentions with a hesitant smile as she looks back down and continues writing.
"Morning," he frowns, his tone forcing her to finally look up and make eye contact. "It went really late."
"Please don't beat yourself up Mac. Duty calls, right?"
"It does because I allow it to."
"Oh too early for this kind of confession from you," she gently frowns and he curses himself inwardly. "It's okay."
"Right. Well before the day gets crazier I am telling you right now that at..."
"Mac, its okay...it..." she tries with a tight lipped smile; hoping the disappointment in her voice is disguised as work and not emotion.
"Stella, I owe..."
"I don't want you to do anything out of obligation. It's not a big deal," she lies. "If you don't want..."
"Okay wrong choice of words. But I do Stella, I do want to have dinner with you. And I promise tonight that I'll be there, no matter what."
Stella arches a skeptical brow; staring at her handsome partner with a heavy heart that is now starting to beat faster. His defeated posture and tired expression, tell her that he probably spent all night mentally beating himself up for standing her up two nights in a row. And the more she gazes upon his remorseful face, she knows inside her heart there is no way she could just say no to him. I could never say no to him.
"Did you sleep last night?"
"Don't sleep."
"Mac..."
"Stella?"
"One more chance Mac," Stella finally rewards his efforts with a warm smile; putting him instantly at ease. "But if you miss..."
"Stella, I'll be there. I promise."
"You better or I will kill you," she gently teases.
"I'll even give you my permission," he smirks and their bond is once again connected and the tension lifted.
Stella watches Flack and Sheldon approach and knows it's not the time to add another word on the comment; the day is about to start and it's time to work. She watches Mac take his leave and offers a heavy sigh as she too pushes herself up out of her chair and heads into the lab after Sheldon to hopefully wrap up their latest case and bring this emotionally draining week to a much needed close. There is still hope, her brain offers throughout the day. There always was hope, her brain reminds her. He wasn't going anywhere.
XXXXXXXX
"You okay?" Flack asks Mac in concern. "You've been quiet all day."
"Long week."
"Heard you got ambushed last night by Sinclair and Paulson. Damn it!"
"It wasn't that bad Don," Mac sighs as they near his office a few hours later. "He just wanted to cement a few more details, but I heard the jury is now deliberating so I'm hoping with everything that was presented it won't take too long and any mistakes are negligible."
Mac watches Flack take his leave and then spies Stella at the end of the hall and slowly makes his way over to her; a slight frown on his face and his heart starting to beat a bit faster. Stella looks up as he approaches and offers him a warm smile; a gesture he can't help but reward her with a smile of his own in return.
"A few hours left in the day Mac."
"I'm heading over to the clerk's office at the court to drop this off and then I'm calling it a day."
"But it's only five thirty," she gently teases. "Could be a record even for you."
"Figure, if I'm away from this place, no chance of getting ambushed," he frowns. "Besides, I think I'd be the next crime scene if I was to allow work to detain me for the third night in a row."
"Oh you better believe that Mister," she teases as she gently squeezes his arm. "See you soon."
"I'll be there Stella. I promise," he smiles once more as he leans in and plants a discreet kiss on her cheek. "I'll see you out front in one hour," Mac states fatefully as he quickly takes his leave. He gathers his coat and takes the file, offering her one more warm smile before he disappears into the elevator and then down to the parking lot.
He allows his mind to wander to what the night has in store for them. He had been struggling with inner feelings all week; feelings he has for her and in truth was also wanting an opportunity to spend some alone time with her; private time away from the office where he didn't feel intimidated opening up on an emotional level; even to a small degree. And while he knows he still has some reservations about what to expect, he feels inside that he owes her the truth about what he wants for them; the time to open up just needing tonight to present itself. Stella, I'm going to tell you tonight, his brain confirms. I'm going to tell you I love you and want more for us and still believe that you want this as much as I do.
Mac heads to the clerk's office in a better frame of mind; telling himself that even if his phone were to ring and it was work, it was now Friday night and he was entitled to at least a few hours to himself; a social outing something he was entitled to. He arrives at the clerk's office and frowns when he sees there is no street parking. With no other choice he directs the Avalanche into the back alley and stops; being the lone vehicle in the darkened area; right accross from an old dilapitated and abandoned apartment building. He takes the file and pushes himself outside; hurrying into the court house to conclude his business and leave as fast as possible.
He drops off the file and then heads toward the back door once more; happy inside that he was able to allow nothing to impede his plan on getting back to Stella. However, as he heads outside and nears his truck, he sees a dark van parked behind it and feels his nervous anxiety starting to grow. He nears the front door of the Avalanche, ready to get in, when he hears a noise coming from the back of the truck; a shadow hovering and footsteps moving further back into the shadows.
"Here he comes!" He hears a whispered voice.
"Is there a problem here?" Mac demands in a firm tone; knowing inside he's never one to back down from a fight or walk away from something that seems suspicious or out of place.
His fingers instinctively move to his hip; his gun ready for action in case needed. He nears the back of the truck, gun half out of it's casing, when out of the shadows a glint of silver is seen just before it connects with the left side of his face, instantly breaking the skin above the eye and forcing blood and dirt to mix with tears.
"What...the..." is all Mac manages, his fingers slipping from the handle of his gun as his back sustains a hard blow from a similar object. Another strike to his chest and he slams onto the dirty concrete on his stomach, face pounding, heart racing, chest heaving and mind wondering what is going on. However, with his face down his attackers are unable to see who they are really attacking.
"Thought you could just screw us over huh?" One of them shouts as he kicks Mac hard in the right side; his gun finally detaching itself and clattering to the pavement a few feet away.
"Thought you could just take our money and not pay us back! Thought you could just come here and take us out!" The second man shouts at Mac once more.
"Yeah we heard about your plan to take us out first!"
"Well you were wrong! And now it's time to pay."
"With your life!"
"Wait..." Mac lightly gasps. "Don't....do..."
The first man reaches for Mac's gun before raising it a few feet above his head and cocking the trigger.
"Too late to beg for your life. Now it's time to die."
~To Be Concluded~
A/N: So how do you think Stella is going to react when Mac doesn't show up? Hope you like it and will review and let me know and I'll try to have the conclusion up as fast as possible! GO SMACKED