Stella was waiting in his office when he got back.
"That's my chair," he commented.
She smiled at him. "Just trying it out." Getting up, she leaned against the edge of his desk as he shed his suit jacket. "I noticed you took the daughter home."
Mac shrugged, rolling up his sleeves and sitting down. "She looked a little lost."
"Still, it's not exactly like you, Mac. You usually try to stay emotionally detached from cases. You like to stay objective."
He nodded. "I do. Though the case is technically over now." Stella just held his gaze and he finally sighed. "I just…I felt sorry for her."
"Why?"
Mac looked up at her sharply. "What do you mean?"
"I mean…why her? We see tragic cases and their victims every day. What made her different from all the others?"
He stared at her for a long moment before moving his eyes to stare at some place behind her.
"She was so desperate to connect with someone, anyone, that she turned to a virtual stranger…who turned out to be someone who should have known her better than most. She just wanted someone to understand her."
Stella watched him silently, seeing the thoughts racing through his head. Eventually, she pushed away from the desk and rested her hand on his before leaning over and giving him a lingering kiss on the cheek. Mac's breath caught and he stared at her in surprise, but she was already turning and walking towards the door.
"Stella."
She turned and gave him a thoughtful look, and he wondered how he had missed it all this time.
"Yeah?"
He fumbled for just a second, second-guessing himself before he managed to find the only words he could.
"Have you eaten?"
She gave him a smile, the one she only ever gave to him. "No."
Mac grabbed his jacket and slipped it back on. Walking over to her, he rested his hand in the small of her back and felt the way she leaned into his touch, just a little, and he knew that he had just made it.