Title: For What Matters Most
Summary: As the Compass Killer case finally wraps up Stella realizes that some things in life you never take for granted; like the one person you love more than anything. SMACKED fluffy One-Shot. Based on and some spoilers from eppy 6.9 Manhattanhenge
Disclaimer: I don't own Mac Taylor but I wish I did (course then I'd have no time for writing)! 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: So for the few brief moments last night that we SMACKED fans can take some comfort in (despite the stupid writers). Happy Turkey Day to our American Brethern. Enjoy!
Today is finally over.
I don't know who is more relived; Mac that the Compass Killer is finally caught or me that Mac survived this round with a the ruthless villain and he's where he belongs in jail and Mac is where he belongs, at my side. Watching him go down into that sewer, knowing that the Compass Killer could be down there waiting for him was forcing my heart to race at top speed; even now, thinking back as I looked down at his handsome face in the darkness, forces a small lump to form in my throat. I could have lost you Mac. Even getting the details later from him, will I think give me nightmares for a few days. What if I had lost him down there for good?
I was so relieved that not only did he agree to join us all at the restaurant; some real downtime with the team, but for an hour or two he seemed to just let himself go and relax. His body was at ease, his face relaxed and his words were genuine and from the heart. But he was the first to leave; quickly disappearing into the night, wanting to once again get lost in a sea of unknown faces. And while I wanted him there at my side, his strong presence assuring the team he was still in control of himself and the world around him; his subtle movements told me another story.
He wanted to be at the lab; in his office; hiding in his fortress of solitude. His mind once again trying to find reason why he was able to still think and act like a rash human being when Hollis Eckhart had chosen a vile path of self justification and near self destruction.
I slowly head back to my office to collect my things; my body tired but my mind to active to think about sleep. I look up from my desk just as I turn off the light and I hear soft shuffling and angry cursing. I head into the hallway and notice Mac's small desk lamp has been turned on. Mac had told me how frustrated he was in the tunnels and I think even now that frustration is something still feeding his overworked brain.
But is that it? Or is there more? Why are you still here Mac? Probably still trying to justify what Eckhart did to ease his inner turmoil. You can't Mac, you can't reason with a devil like that; his justification was beyond human decency. I wonder as I slowly walk toward his office; my mind racing with what I want to, need to tell him.
I could have lost you Mac.
I can't lose you Mac.
I love you Mac.
How on earth can you tell someone what they mean to you when it's almost impossible to put into words what your heart forces your mind to feel? You can't. And for the past ten years, I have held back; held back from telling the one person, the most important person in my life how much he means to me. But Eckart's life and actions proved that time is short and the one thing we don't take for granted is those we love.
I watch him through the glass walls of his office; an invisible force field that he puts around himself to keep at bay anyone that might seek to cause him any emotional or mental anxiety; his own physical well being of course taking second place to anything else.
I watch him in concern. This case had more than taken its toll on him and sometimes I fear it always will. He had tried to come to sense with Hollis Eckhart and what he did to find some personal comfort and closure after he witnessed his wife's senseless and violent death. Mac had also lost his wife to a senseless and violent act but while Mac sought justice through the proper channels for others; Hollis sought closure by taking lives from those he wanted.
I know Mac had tried to reason why Hollis didn't just seek counseling; talk to someone he trusted, cared about, felt close to. But unlike Mac, Hollis had no one and so turned to evil as a means of comfort. I refused to allow Mac to walk down that path after Claire was taken. And whereas Hollis was alone and unloved after his wife died; I was always assured in my mind that as long as Mac drew breath, he would never be alone; never left to his own personal misery and failure of that terrible day.
He finally looks up and his warm gaze penetrates right through the cold glass, his body stiff but his face softening enough to offer an unseen invitation to approach; to enter his fortress of solitude that he's so expertly constructed for himself. I of course will answer that invitation without any hesitation at all. His handsome face wants to smile, his body relax under the casual attire he's still wearing, but something is holding him back. What?
"I know better than to ask how are you as I'm sure you'll just hand me the typical Mac Taylor, 'I'm fine,' BS and be done with it," I start and his eyes gently crinkle.
"I'm tired. Does that make you feel better?"
"Human after all, but I think I knew that," I reply and his lips want to tug upward. Sadly something stops them so that warm elusive smile that always makes my heart beat faster is kept at bay until I can come up with a way to coax it out of him; wanting more than anything to see an outward display of the man I know and love.
"You look very nice by the way," Mac finally tells me and I can't help but smile.
"So do you," I answer and one corner of his mouth tugs upward. "Come on Mac, what's up? Why did you come back here?"
"It's over."
"The case?" I query and he nods in agreement. "Is it Mac?" I gently call him on his strained words. "Is it really over?"
"This one is."
"But inside you don't believe that."
"Kinda unnerving how easily you do that."
"Do what?"
"See into my soul."
"Trust me if I could see into your soul Mac, I think I would have..." I stop and then offer a heavy sigh as my lips just offer a tight lipped smile and I nod my head.
"Stella?"
"Nothing Mac," I resign. Coward, my brain scoffs.
"I know when you are not telling me the whole truth."
"That is also unnerving," I gently frown and his lips finally curl upward; like the Cheshire cat that just tricked Alice into giving up something valuable.
"What is it?"
"I guess I'm tired to. I should go."
"Stella you can't start by offering an insight into...well..." he stops and then shakes his head. "You're right, I guess we are both tired and just need to rest."
"But you aren't going to do that right?"
"Stella..." he tries to protest.
I want to yell at him for being so stubborn as he always is; to shelve the typical Mac Taylor, I take a lickin' and keep on tickin' persona that he portrays for the rest of the world because it's me and he doesn't have to be afraid to show his vulnerable side. A side I know does exist beneath that hard outer shell he's so masterfully crafted for himself over the years.
"Part of you understood his anger and pain right? Wanting to make the pain go away by getting even?"
"Well when I find Osama you can tell me I told you so," Mac retorts and I just sigh and shake my head. "I might have understood but that..."
"No one on this planet would ever expect you to condone, accept or ever agree with Eckhart's reasoning. He's a cold blooded killer, plain and simple."
"But?" Mac arches his brows.
"But I know it affected you more than you are letting on and I'm angry and frustrated because you won't tell me."
"Those are petty emotions and I refuse to allow myself to entertain such thoughts."
"Damn it Mac you are also human. Did you forget that?"
"Maybe I did," he huffs as he presses his hands into his face and sighs; his shoulders slumping under the heavy weight of internal emotional burden.
"Need me to remind you?"
"I need one of us to go home and get some sleep," Mac insists and I just look at him with a blank stare.
"It's almost eleven, even the janitorial staff have gone home Mac. What reason do you have for..." I start and then stop. It suddenly hit me; the compass killer, Hollis Eckhart, forced Mac's mind to relive the helpless feelings he had when 9/11 had first happened. That's why he doesn't want to go home; Sheldon had finally gotten his own place and Mac would be going home to a house full of silent reminders of that loss; made real once again by today's events.
"Mac, you need to go home and rest."
"I uh..." he starts with a heavy sigh as he turns around, his tense back to me.
"You know I'm not going to leave unless you come with me," I state and his shoulders slump further. "Mac, showing weakness to me isn't a sign of failure; it's a sign of trust. Don't you trust me?"
"With my life," he replies in a soft whisper.
I slowly walk over to him and turn him to face me. Before he can react I place my hand on his cheek and gently guide his lips to mine; tenderly tasting them, feeling the small electrical shocks of our new union as it travels all the way down my spine to my feet.
"Stella..." he wants to protest again, only to have me press my finger against his flushed lips and stop him from saying something that might force the magic of the moment to dissipate.
"Shhh Mac," I whisper with a soft smile and his eyes close for a brief second. "It's time to rest now," I inform him as I gently loop my arm in his and despite a small whispered protest I lead us over to his couch and ease us both down, our bodies pressed together, sitting side by side; generating heat on the soft leather surface.
"But..." he tries again, his body tense and his expression uncertain.
"Just rest Mac," I urge as I use my left hand to guide his head to my right shoulder, his warm breath sending small shivers at it dances along my exposed collarbone.
"I can't..."
"Please Mac for me."
He ceases his useless protests and then allows a few minutes of silence to pass, his body once again sagging further into mine; exhaustion finally taking its toll on Mac Taylor.
"I wanted to know why."
"Why what?" I inquire.
"Why inside he was driven to such extreme measures."
"Mac, nothing he would have said would have soothed any inner turmoil for you."
"I told him...told him that Claire never left me. Inside Stella, she hasn't."
"I know Mac and I'm glad you have her in your heart. But you are a different man that Hollis and can't compare yourself to him in any way."
"Thought I could connect with him on a personal level. I mean he was with her in the end; something I was denied. I wanted to tell him that, to make it personal for him."
"He surrendered right?"
"Maybe if I had connected with him before the murders took place."
"Are you serious? He wasn't going to be found until he announced himself to us. Mac there was no way you could have known or prevented any of this any sooner."
"I know you're right."
"But you can't accept it?" I ask with a heavy sigh.
"Should have done more."
"It wouldn't have mattered Mac. He was driven by a different force than you. But he's alive right now and that you can take some comfort in. His life and the peace for the ones that lost theirs. Closure is also important," I gently remind him.
"I know," he sighs, his fingers nervously fidgeting together; his eyes unable to look at me. But just as my hand reaches out to cover his, stop his nervous actions, he quickly pulls away and offers me a tight smile. "I guess I should let you go home."
"Come here," I gently instruct as I ease myself fully back on his couch and hold out my hand for him to join me.
"We can't...not here" he frowns heavily. "What if someone sees?"
"No one matters but us Mac," I tell him with a kind smile. "You just need to rest for a few minutes."
"A few minutes?"
"That's it and then you can go home," I allow my voice to trail off to a soft whisper.
"Alone," he lightly grimaces and looks at me in remorse and I feel my heart shatter instantly.
"Mac..."
"Truth hurts Stella, no big deal," he quickly adds and then pastes on a fake tight lipped smile as I see his hand finally extend and grasp mine. I sense fear at first as he tightly holds on and looks around; trying to convince himself he's not going to do anything wrong. But then when he sees we are alone, he looks back at me; allowing sapphire to collide with emerald and he finally gives in to what I want for us.
"The truth is I care for you, does that hurt?" I arch a brow and his face relaxes.
"No."
"You know I don't know what I would do if I had to witness the one person I love more than anything die before my eyes. To be with them; to watch them; to know in that moment you'll never..." I start and stop, my eyes wanting to water and Mac is quick to look at me in wonder.
"Stella?" He asks as his hand rests on my cheek.
"I don't know if I'd survive."
"I did; with your help," he confesses and my lips curl upward.
"So let me help you now Mac. Please? Just a few minutes."
"Okay," he agrees with some initial hesitation as he finally allows me to pull him down onto my waiting frame, his weary head resting on my stomach; one arm pressed into the soft leather and the other loosely draped over my legs; thankfully I am wearing pants.
"Just close your eyes okay?"
"And then..." he tries to protest.
"Zip it Mac and just close your eyes already," I tease and his lips finally curl into a warm smile as his closes his eyes; dark lashes resting on flushed skin.
My fingers start to gently massage his head, the tips getting lost in soft dark strands. "Your hair is kinda curly Mac," I mention and his lips offers a slight chuckle.
"All my life," he whispers, his heart rate slowing; his body finally starting to relax and unwind.
"Ever think of growing it long?" I tease and he offers me another small laugh; my goal, to take his mind off this harrowing day and just dwell on silly things as he falls asleep. I have no intention of moving and every intention of having Mac rest for as long as he wants; the few minutes being a rouse of course to gain his trust and get him to relax.
"Don't want to...compete with you," he mumbles in a sleepy tone.
My hand continues to gently massage his head, his lips offering small contented sighs as his body slowly shuts down; finally relapsing into full relaxation mode. My hand moves from his head down to his neck and tense shoulders and while it only can offer a few loving strokes, he offers words that warm my heart.
"Don't stop...feels good," Mac whispers as the arm that is not pressed against the couch tightens around my legs, afraid to let go; as if in a few minutes this moment will be broken and I'll be sending him home all alone.
As Mac's body finally drifts into a relaxed slumber, my mind starts to drift. The thought of Mac going home alone after such a draining case makes my heart ache with sorrow. He doesn't have to be alone anymore, my brain offers and this time it's my turn to offer a heavy sigh.
He's not alone, I insist, trying to think of reasons why Mac and I shouldn't pursue anything outside a professional working relationship. What is one good reason? My brain wonders. It would ruin our friendship. The best romantic relationships are based on very solid friendships, my brain reminds me and I can't argue with that. But what if Mac doesn't want that? I wonder as I look down at the handsome man now carefully held in my loving arms.
If he didn't want more he would have left already, my brain correctly reminds me.
"Stella..." Mac's soft lips whisper into the stillness of the room.
My heart beats faster at the thought that even now, no matter what his mind is offering, he sees me; whispering my name. Mac, I want to whisper back, wanting more than anything to wake him and beg him to tell me why he called my name. But as I hear him whisper it again followed by a heavy sigh I realize that I am being treated to something special right now.
To everyone else around him; he's untouchable. A hard outer shell that is able to deflect any attack that might come his way; enabling him to simply shake the dust off his feet and stare right back at the object of his anger, curse and keep going. But right now...with meright here; he's showing me his softer, vulnerable side, something he hasn't offered to anyone else outside his late wife.
I am at once honored and humbled that he's chosen right now to give himself so willingly to whatever I had asked of him; to truly allow himself to relax in my grasp; leading me to believe that if I pressed for something more he might actually agree once again. Dinner? Drinks? An official romantic night out?
I feel his grip around me tighten and his lips offer a soft curse and I know it will take some time for all the stress of this case to completely leave his mind and heart. Other cases Mac was able to detach himself from in a personal way; but I fear this one might be different.
"I love you Mac," I whisper into the stillness of the room. I of course don't expect him to answer in return but the fact I was able to just say those words; get that sentiment past my lips, gives me hope that I'll be able to tell him to his face. I love him; more than anything. Now I just need to tell him; make him understand that my life would be lost, empty, dead without him.
I hear a soft shuffling and look up to see Don standing in the doorway, an amused look on his face. He looks down at Mac, asleep on my lap and then up at me with an amused expression. I hold a finger to my lips, motioning that his life is foreit if he wakes Mac and his face cracks a wide grin.
"Bout damn time you two," he whispers as he waves goodnight and heads toward the door; taking our secret into the night with him.
I finally feel fatigue starting to consume me also and close my eyes; telling myself I'll just close my eyes for a few minutes and then I'll be going home also. Alone? Not alone. Hopefully not anymore. But as I drift to sleep, my subconscious takes to heart the words I have longed to hear from the only man I'll ever love and fear to lose.
"I love you too Stella," Mac whispers before the dark realm of sleep envelops us both. And while today started with anxiety and pain it ended with what matters most; the promise of a love that will last forever.
THE END!
A/N: Hope you all liked this one shot also; a rare Stella's POV, hope that's okay. Thanks again you guys rock and let's be keeping our fingers crossed for more SMACKED (even a little) as this season continues.