Hello.

I'm new to this. Not new to fan fiction, or the site, but to being an author.

This work came about because of many factors, most of which I won't bore you with. Suffice it to say, for people like me, TV has created a vacuum, a need. And I wanted to fill it. That is to say, for a fan like myself, I had a lot of unsatisfactory endings of favorite characters and shows themselves.

This also came about because I've read fan fiction for many years now. Many, many authors have given me hours of happy diversion, and I wanted to give something back.

So, this fic is dedicated to the fans, like myself, who like this show and/or this pairing. It's a multi-chapter fic, and, sorry fans of the other characters on this show, but it has nothing of them. It's not that I don't like them. On the contrary, I'm quite fond of them, but, as this is my first work, I wasn't sure I could even stay within character for Mac and Stella. Also, it's largely a Mac-centered fic. I actually love Stella's character just as much, but that's not how the muse led me this time.

I tried to stay pretty canonical, but I did diverge from the path on occasion. Like in the backstories, for instance. Not a ton, but some. I also took the story from where the show left off and tried to finish it by making something I would've preferred to have happen, as opposed to what did happen.

This humble work is also dedicated to the wonderful writers of the show, who spent all those hours of hard work sketching out great characters that still capture people's hearts and imaginations. Thank you.

And, last but not least, to the producers and actors of the show, who created the characters in the first place, and fleshed them out.

Hope you enjoy. And please leave feedback. It only takes a minute or two, and it would mean a lot to this first time writer.

Thanks so much, and I hope you enjoy the ride.

PS: This story has language in it as it deals with the mafia, and I strive for reality as much as I can. Also there's some violence and some physical intimacy. It's pretty tame compared to what I've seen around. So, I rated this a T. Also, hopefully the formatting is okay, as I've never done this before.

Prologue

"Think where man's glory most begins and ends,

and say my glory was I had such friends."

- William Butler Yeats

Tom Dougherty, 32, tall, handsome, dark-haired, with green-eyes, a former Marine, and now a cop, walked away from the window of a small local sandwich vendor and plopped down on one of the grey, weathered wooden picnic table benches out front, under the shade of a bright yellow umbrella, and slid his tray directly across from his partner, Jerry. A tall, sandy-haired, freshly minted rookie, younger than his counterpart by four years, Jerry Chance was a veteran himself, though lacking the same length of time on his service record that Tom possessed, and from the Coast Guard.

Tom eyed Jerry squeezing tons of ketchup on his fries and looked on in disgust, shaking his head. "Would ya like some fries with your ketchup?"

Jerry, the butt of many good-natured jokes, due to the unfortunate coincidence of his being paired with a guy named Tom—'Tom and Jerry, really?'—glanced up at his partner and snarked back sarcastically, "Hardy-har, Tommy. The world is a lesser place since you became a Marine over becoming a comedian, and I mean that in both ways." He smirked to himself as Tommy rolled his eyes and then went back to his meal.

In the background, Tom, ever observant, absently noted the many different people walking past them on the sidewalk as he squeezed some extra mustard onto his Polish hot dog smothered with Sauerkraut. His ears distractedly picked up on the upbeat sounds of The Lovin' Spoonful's "Do You Believe in Magic" playing on an old radio nearby.

"Boy, all the crazies are out today." Jerry took out a napkin from the pile in front of them and swathed it across his sweaty brow.

"It's the heat. Does something to people," Tom replied, and then took a bite out of his hot dog, savoring the spicy tang of the mustard. He swiped the side of his mouth with a napkin.

After a quiet moment—the two partners busy contentedly eating their meals—two friends, and fellow officers, Mac Taylor and Stella Bonasera, walked over to the table with their food and joined them. Stella slid in next to Tom, and Mac sat across from her, next to Jerry.

Taking a long sip of his Coke, Mac sighed. "Hotter 'n hell today."

Stella, looking prettily flushed, replied, "Tell me about it. What I would give for a dip in the pool right now."

Tom snorted in response. "Jer and I have already had a kid left in the car, 2 domestic disturbance calls and a wreck where the participants, 2 adult males in their thirties, were trying to take each other apart at the scene. And it's just now 12:47."

"Forget the full moon, this heat gets inside people and makes 'em crazy." Jerry shook his head, and continued, "What a job."

Mac shook his head as well and looked up from his tuna on rye towards Tom. "Which reminds me... What we were talking about the other day...?"

Tom nodded and took a long gulp of his ice-cold soda, closing his eyes at the bliss of the cool liquid sliding down his parched throat. Condensation had already formed on the outside of the cup, he'd noticed when he opened his eyes again.

"Stell and I have actually finally both decided where we wanna go from here."

"What'sa matter? You not feelin' the beat anymore, Mac?" Jerry asked and smirked wryly.

Stella reached over the table and grabbed a long fry off of Mac's plate, swirling it in ketchup before biting the golden, crispy treat in half. Mac eyed her a moment and then winked, grabbing a fry himself.

"Forensics," she filled in, after finishing up the fry.

"Really? Sounds boring to me," Jerry jokingly responded. "Give me real police work and some action anytime over dumpsters, the decaying stench of DBs and pounds of paperwork."

"Says the puddle pirate," Tom mocked.

"Hey, I'm sure Jerry saw a lot of action in those cute, little cutters he rode around in in the Coast Guard," Mac chimed in, grinning.

Tom grunted and threw a wide grin Jerry's way.

"Yeah, yeah. That's right. Gang up on on the coastie. Real nice."

Stella smiled at Jerry sympathetically. "Must be tough sometimes, being friends with two jarheads, Jer."

Jerry, noticing it, and not minding sympathy from a beautiful woman, grinned back and then addressed her. "It's okay, Stell. They're just bitter because it's common knowledge Marines are crayon eaters."

Stella raised her eyebrows at Jerry, eyes twinkling. "Really?" She chuckled, always relishing this light, good-natured ribbing between the boys, when they relaxed a bit.

"It's true. In fact, Marine actually stands for Muscle Always Required, Intelligence Not Essential." He chuckled at his own, well-worn, joke and Mac and Tom eyed each other, silently communicating, as only two old, good friends, who've been through what they had together, can.

"I don't get it with the dumb jokes for the Marines as a go to. Seems ta me, that if you only have one basic joke in your bag of retorts, maybe you're the ones with IQs lower than your ASVAB scores," Tom responded, enjoying this old, familiar game of busting the younger man's chops.

"That all you other service members got, Jer?" Mac raised his eyebrows to Jerry in faux curiosity.

"Please, I got plenty." Jerry eyed Stella again and waggled his eyebrows at her. Stella just rolled her eyes, knowing Jerry was currently dating, and crazy about, a sweet girl named Melanie and not flirting seriously.

"Anyway...back to more important topics..." Tom interjected. Jerry flipped him off and happily went back to his burger. "I heard back from that recruiter from the Bureau."

"And...?" Mac asked him.

"And...I'm in. You guys are looking at a future undercover agent for the FBI. They think I have real talent."

Jerry snorted derisively at that and, karmically, choked on his bite of burger. Mac slapped him several times on the back, hard, making him flinch. He waved Mac's hand off after taking a long pull of his drink and mock-glared at him. "Thanks."

"Anytime," Mac responded, and grinned.

"Yeah, I bet," Jerry replied caustically, then shrugged and went back to his meal, allowing the conversation to continue.

"So, what does Maggie think about all this?" Mac asked, referring to Tom's wife of seven years.

"She's happy for me—for us. I think since junior's on the way, she's just happy for a higher paying job. Financial security, ya know?"

Mac nodded.

"Speaking of wives, how's Claire's new job turning out?"

"She loves it."

"Good to hear," Tom replied. He finished up the last of his hot dog and crumpled up the napkin in his hand, after wiping his mouth again. "Hey, what d' ya guys think about all meeting at my place this weekend for a barbecue?"

"Count me in if there's beer and barbecue," Jerry agreed, before popping several messy fries into his mouth. Tom eyed Jerry's table manners and grimaced.

Mac grinned at his old Corps buddy. "Sure. Claire wants to get that new lasagne recipe from Maggie. And I know we don't have any plans this weekend."

"What about you, Stell? Can ya make it?"

"Love to, Tom. I'll bring the dessert."

Just then, the foursome heard a call over their radios of shots fired on 54th and Lex. Jerry groaned, and him and Tom both stood. Tom started toward their vehicle, leaving Jerry to hurriedly stuff two last fries into his mouth and wipe his hands on a napkin.

"Back to the furnace," Jerry sighed, and then 'accidentally' bumped into Mac as he passed behind him, making Mac miss his bite of tuna sandwich and smearing mayo on the side of his face.

"Seriously?" Mac inquired rhetorically, grabbing a couple of napkins off the table to wipe his cheek.

"Hey, be grateful. I just improved the view for poor Stella here, seein' as she has to sit across from an ugly mug like yours and still manage to eat."

Mac smirked at the joke, and then he, Jerry and Stella all heard Tom yell at Jerry, and turned to see him hanging out of their patrol car window, motioning a hand in the air. "Hey, this ain't a limo service here. We got a job to do, kid. Time ta hit it!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah..." Jerry jogged over to his side of the cruiser and got in.

Mac watched his old platoon partner drive off and then turned and nodded to Stella. "Great news about Tommy, huh?"

"It is." Stella smiled, genuinely happy for their mutual friend.

"Tom's pretty smart, great at adapting. He was made for a job like this."

Neither Mac, nor Stella, could hope to know that Tom's good news that day would have ramifications that would reach far into the future and seriously, even savagely, effect them all.