Title: Ladies First

Summary: After surviving the death house, can Mac and Stella survive a night of unwinding together; in her apartment? SMACKED fluffy One-Shot. Based on and some spoilers from eppy 6.10 Death House

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: Another nearly 2am musing but the muse was too excited to just wait until morning! Hope you all like it and it makes some sense! (grin) GO SMACKED! LOVED THIS EPPY! Seriously one of the best SMACKED this year, the looks, the touching the smacked flirting!


Mac slowly walks into the locker room running a weary hand through his hair and allowing his lips to offer a heavy sigh into the stillness before him. The day had started out as any other day but was immediately thrown off course by the case from hell. However, all throughout the day there were times when he felt the boundaries of friendship were being pushed into a new frontier, one that he had to admit held hope and uncertainty. But his partner was mostly to blame, forcing his mind to ponder something new for them; her her flirty looks, soft touches and mental chemical impulses that kept him locked to her whenever they were in the same proximity to each other told him that something more than mere friendship was breweing beneath the surface.

'Stella!'

His brain forces him to remember his panicked cry to his partner and best friend before one of the death weapons flew from the ceiling; nearly missing her. His heart raced and yet with Don in the room, he was unable to express his true inner terror that he could have witnessed Stella's demise and how he was feeling at that moment; things he never told her and might never have is she had died. He asked her if she was okay, the only lame sentiment that seemed to jump to his brain at the moment. His anxiety was high, not just for trying to find the real cause of death for Walter Jones but also for the safety of his team; as they tried to navigate through the 'death house.'

But despite his terror it was his partner's off handed remark, 'I'll shoot you if you say ladies first,' that still rang in his head, forcing a smile even now to his tired lips and somehow making their short jaunt through hell that much more bearable. Vanished into thin air? She had quipped and it brought a smirk to his lips despite the situation.

Throughout their working career she was always able to do that, force his brain to detach from the worry of her life being taken and focus on making sure it wasn't. Will I ever be able to express what I truly feel? 'Careful Stella,' he had stated. Was it enough? It's never enough when it comes to you, his brain scolds. But as he feels her sudden loss he realizes that today forced him to realize that if she was taken his life would be empty; over? Certainly devoid of hope and love. Love?

"I guess Stella left," he whispers to himself as he heads for his locker. Should have at least asked her for a drink, his brain offers. Especially after what you just survived together. Cursing himself, Mac knows he should have at least offered to take her home, but now wonders why she just up and left without saying goodbye. Maybe because you didn't show her that you were really scared that you could have lost her, his brain reminds him. "I need to tell her more," he mumbles to himself as he nears his own locker.

However, as he rounds the corner he sees her sitting against her locker, eyes closed he realizes that despite the tough outer shell she puts on display for everyone else to see, she sometimes has to bend to human weaknesses; fatigue.

He stops, fixed in time; unable to move. Watching her and wondering. Does he just slowly back up? Allowing her her few minutes of rest before someone else comes and forces her back to reality. I should offer to take her home. Now you're thinking, his brain states happily. His hand reaches out and then stops. Should I?

He slowly approaches, gingerly touching her shoulder and holding his breath; not expecting her next actions. But just as she pulls herself from her sleepy stupor, obviously still in her nightmarish world, her hand wraps around his and she gives it a sharp tug, forcing Mac's lips to offer a cry of surprise as his weary body slams to the floor on his back.

"Oh damn..." he groans.

"Mac!" Stella exclaims in shock as she gazes down at him in horror. "Oh my g..."

"Good thing you weren't in target practice," Mac wheezes as he blinks his eyes, trying to refocus them but offering her a weak smile of assurance.

"Yeah I would have shot you for sure," Stella frowns.

"I know."

"What were...here take my...why did..." her voice rattles off in a weary ramble as his fingers wrap around hers and he allows her to help him back up. "Damn it Mac what were you doing?"

Mac slowly eases himself down beside at her on the bench and offers her a strained smile.

"Are you okay?" They both asked at once.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Just didn't want you to fall over and hurt yourself or...or anyone else to find you."

"I'm sorry I put you through another fright, especially after today. I guess today tired me out more than I thought. I know I was working off adrenaline in that place. Must be gone," she grimaces.

"Yeah...the death house," Mac huffs as he looks back down at his fingers.

Stella's eyes follow his and rest on a cut that he had managed to keep hidden during their ordeal. "Mac, when did cut your hand?"

"Just a scratch Stella, no big deal. But you need to go home and get some sleep."

"Will you come with me?"

"What?"

"I mean if I leave will you leave at the same time?" She quickly changes, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart.

"Believe it or not, I think I'm spent of adrenaline as well," Mac confesses and her fingers close around his uninjured hand and offer him a gentle squeeze.

"Ladies first," she mentions and his lips offer a hearty smirk; hers a chuckle. "Bastard."

"Me or Sam Harding."

"Both," Stella nudges his shoulder.

"He was brilliant."

"Brillant Mac? He was a psycho."

"Psycho?" Mac arches his brows.

"Freak suit you better?" She counters.

"Like psycho. Just glad we all got out of there in one piece."

"Well you were my hero in there today."

"Trust me it was a team effort."

"Grandfather clock Mac? You were the brilliant one."

"You figured out a good number of those riddles without my help."

"We make a good team," she tells him warmly.

"Especially today."

"Every day," she tells him and he nods in agreement. "Come on braveheart, let's call it a night."

"You going to be okay?"

"I think I'll have a few nightmares tonight but tomorrow is Saturday right? That means I am not on call and can sleep in if I need to."

"Sounds good."

"You thinking of doing the same tomorrow?"

"Well I do have a rare day off."

"And you want to make it a historical event by actually sleeping?" She teases as they slowly head for the elevator, both spent of energy and happy to be heading home for the week. Mac's eyes gently crease into a warm smile as he looks at her sideways but offers nothing in return.

"Are you hungry?" Mac asks as they reach the outside.

Stella turns to him with a look of shock and surprise. "Sorry today was a day of firsts, did you just ask if I was hungry?"

"Right, what was I thinking?" Mac scoffs.

"Maybe the same thing I was," Stella counters and it's his turn to look at her in surprise. She quickly loops his arm in his and drags him after her to a waiting cab.

"Where are we going?" Mac queries as he follows her into the cab. But when she gives the driver her home address only, he looks at her in wonder.

"You have no food in your fridge Mac; ever," she states pointedly and he can only shrug in his weak defense. "So your place is out of the question."

"Maybe I'll do some grocery shopping tomorrow. Think I'd survive that?"

"Don't know, those supermarkets can be scary places for the inexperienced," she teases and his face rewards her with another warm smile. "But you survived today."

"First time for everything I guess."

"This is a first...well of sorts."

"What is?"

"You coming home with me and me making you dinner."

"Dinner? Stella..." Mac starts in protest only to have her gently touch his lips to stop his talking.

"I am making you dinner. End of conversation."

"Right," he smirks as he takes her hand and offers it a warm squeeze.

The rest of the ride to her place was spent in silence; Mac holding her hand and Stella's heart racing as to what might transpire when they reached her apartment. The nearness of him always had an instant affect, whether it was concern, tenderness, a brief exchange of pleasantries or a direct bodily connection, such as they were sharing even now. His strong hand touching hers flashed her mind back to the death house and it was his simple touches that gave her streangth and confidence but also told her he wasn't afraid to show, if just to them how he was feeling. His warm scent, strong presence and quiet boyish charm warmed her heart; making her unable to actually express to him in words what he meant to her. Maybe tonight she'd tell him?

Mac glances at her sideways, feeling his nervous anxiety starting to build a little. Forgetting the pain in his hand, his mind now wonders about what to expect at Stella's. Dinner. Just dinner? Do you want more? His brain wonders. Not ready for that. Are you sure? He feels Stella's hand offers his one more squeeze and wonders if she's as nervous as he. Her nearness, her amazing body pressed up against his in the small cab space, her skin touching his; it was real and surreal at the same time. Do you want more? I do. Maybe tonight I can tell her?

"Here we go," Stella whispers as the cab stops in front of her apartment and Mac feels his heart rate start to rise.

"Stella..."

"Mac, you know what I am capable of. Why are you arguing?" She tosses with an arched brow and he just shakes his head; but follows her out of the cab nonetheless. "And you are letting me look at that hand."

"My hand is no big deal."

"And if you bleed out and I find you dead in the morning? Then I'll be arrested for having a death house!" She counters. But when she hears silence starting to build in the elevator she looks at him in surprise. "Sorry Mac, I just..."

"We take care of each other right?" He queries in a gentle whisper, his brow slightly frowned.

"You worry too much," she mentions in return as her fingers rest upon his forehead, forcing it to smooth under her touch. "We do take care of each other. That's what's great about you and me," she finally answers his question from earlier.

They reach her door and she looks at Mac in wonder.

"Ladies first," he offers and she shakes her head as she leads them into her quiet apartment.

"After being in that place, this apartment seems like the Plaza," she mentions and he chuckles. "Even yours would seem more inviting than that place."

"Ouch," Mac states with a mock hurt tone; which is quickly followed by a warm smile.

"Make yourself at home Mac," Stella tells him.

"Sure," Mac mumbles as he eases his suit jacket off his weary body. "What can I do?"

"You can come with me and give me your hand."

"I said..."

"Mac..." she warns.

"Right," he resigns as he follows her to the bathroom, his eyes darting nervously around.

"No death traps in here Mac."

"Just traps?" He counters with a slight chuckle.

"Just a few and you can never leave."

"I..."

"Sit," Stella instructs and Mac looks at her with an amused expression.

Mac watches as her delicate fingers take his strong hand in hers, holding it tenderly as she pulls away his fingers.

"Did you bandage this at all?"

"Fell off earlier," he sighs slightly and then winces when the cool disinfectant dances with the tender flesh.

"Sorry," Stella soothes and he's face relaxes.

His eyes remain fixed on her movements, loving and tender and he starts to feel his stomach slightly tighten; nervous? But not a bad feeling, a warm, comforted feeling. A feeling that scared him more than what he was experiencing in the death house only hours earlier.

"Better?" Stella asks softly as she finishes with a band aid and then closes her fingers over his.

"Better," he echoes as he pushes himself up. However, he misjudges the space between them; their bodies now only inches apart, heat starting to build between them. But neither wanting to move. "Thank you."

"I should make dinner," Stella whispers as she turns to leave.

Mac's hand quickly extends, his fingers wrapping around her slender arm, his strength keeping her in place, captive before him but his tenderness ensuring no physical damage is done. Emerald locks with sapphire, her heart racing as she looks at him in wonder.

"Mac?"

"Uh nothing," he frowns as his hand quickly retreats. "Dinner right?" Coward, his brain throws at him. What are you afraid of? Not sure.

"Dinner...right," she echoes as she turns and heads out of the bathroom, her head slightly dizzy; once again feeling the effects of his nearness to her. Why doesn't he just act on what I know we are both feeling? Maybe he's afraid! Of what? Not sure.

"What do you feel...like?" Stella calls out before turning and bumping into Mac once more. "Mac, I swear you are trying to kill me."

"Could see his face now when I made the call, 'Don I think I killed Stella,'," Mac smirks.

"With closeness?" She arches a brow.

"Would be a first."

"For you?"

"For me," he replies nervously, his heart once again nearing top speed.

"Firsts are a good thing Mac. Especially for you," Stella retorts as she turns back to the fridge, pulls out a few items, hands them to him and then heads for the counter, Mac in tow. She retrieves two dishes and Mac helps her place the food evenly on the plates and then pours them two glasses of wine and heads for the table as Stella starts to warm up the leftovers.

"Can you help me with this?" Stella calls out from the kitchen.

"Sure," Mac replies with a slight yawn. But as he turns to head toward her, his foot gets caught and he finds himself falling forward; however, he didn't realize Stella had appeared and without anything to prevent the accident, slams right into her and both of them fall to the floor.

"Okay that hurt," Stella groans as her body remains trapped beneath the solid frame of her partner.

"Maybe this is my death house," Mac frowns.

"You fell on me."

"Today has been hell on both us," Mac adds with his own weary moan as he looks down at her with a slight frown.

"Thought you wore off all that adrenaline?"

"Obviously not yet," he huffs.

"Shall we do something about that...later?" She queries and his face warms further.

"Um..."

"Don't answer right now Mac," she whispers.

"Right. The chair...tripped me, I'm sorry are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Are you?"

"I am too," Mac smiles down, his body lingering on hers. His fingers gently brush away a few curls; his heart keeping time with hers. But the longer his body remains pressed against hers, the quicker the 'guy' part of his brain is going to take over and that would lead to a situation he wasn't sure they were ready for.

"Later huh?"

"Later Mac...unless you want later now?"

"I...saved by the bell," he whispers as the Microwave dings, breaking their intimate interlude. He carefully pushes himself away and rests beside her, offering a strong hand and pulling her up beside him.

"Long day," she mumbles as her head rests on his shoulder. "You smell good," she mentions as she looks at him with a soft smile. "Let's eat."

"Okay," Mac replies as he takes the hand Stella has offered and stands up beside her. "What did you need?"

"You," she blurts out and then smiles. "To help me carry the plates. They were hot."

"Sure," Mac adds a small smile as he follows her into the kitchen. "Will this blow up if I touch it?"

"It might," she teases. "But today is a day of firsts right? So go for it."

"And if it blows up?"

"Then I'll be calling Don, saying I killed Mac," she teases and he smirks.

They finally sit down, making small talk about the harrowing case and how long it must have taken to outfit a house and what would possess a person to do that in the first place.

"Thank you."

"Better than a butter sandwich?"

"A what?" Mac asks with arched brows.

"Growing up sometimes the home didn't have enough to go around and I remember one of the boys got a butter sandwich one time. Two pieces of bread with butter in the middle; something I would assume you might have an affinity for," she explains and his eyes crinkle with a smile. "Am I right?"

"You would be right," Mac states slowly, his fingers resting inches from hers. But much to her surprise and delight his hand slowly moves forward and clasps hers, holding them tightly in his warm grasp. "Was worried today Stella."

"Today you had good reason."

"Sheldon in that cooker, that woman Paula in the water and you with the ceiling knives and..."

"Ladies first?" She arches a brow.

"It would have been force of habit."

"So you said earlier."

"Never would have let harm come to you Stella."

"Well I was worried about you also. You just sat in that chair without..."

"Thinking about myself?"

"I know you wouldn't hesitate for a second to give your life for those you care about."

"I care about you," Mac admits in truth; his eyes fixed on her fingers as his still play with them. After a few seconds of silence, he dares to raise his eyes and lock with hers once more; a heated romantic showdown between green and blue; neither yielding but neither winning.

"I care about you too Mac."

"It's..."

"More than a friend," she admits, this time her fingers pulling free of his and giving his a squeeze of comfort.

"More?" He dares to question, unsure that he heard her right the first time.

"Too soon?" She wonders with a questioning stare as she stands up to clean up the dishes; Mac following suit.

"Well I guess that depends..."

"On what we both want from the other?"

"That would be it."

"Well I want you to strip naked right now."

"Pardon?" Mac asks in disbelief, slightly coughing as she laughs. "Um what..."

"Too soon?" She teases, her mind taking delight in the boyish expression his face was offering. "Priceless Mac."

"I'll bet," he smirks, his face still warm.

"Couldn't resist," she states warmly as she leans in closer, her face inches from his, her lips near his ear. "But it wasn't a total lie," she adds before kissing him on the side of his face.

"I wouldn't mind the same thing," he whispers before allowing her to pull back and look at him in wonder. "Just saying it."

"Mac..." she starts only to have him gently rest his thumb on her lips, her eyes closing at his warm touch; one she's afraid she'll never feel again. The other hand tenderly cups her cheek as he guides her lips to his and plants a warm kiss on them, hesitant at first but then strong and hungry.

"You know we both have the day off tomorrow."

"I know."

"Think you'll survive if we spend it together?"

"I survived today," Mac retorts.

"Today isn't over yet Mac," Stella counters and his smile grows.

"Well if I'm going to go there is no other place that I'd rather be than right here."

"In my house?"

"In your arms," he tells her before he crushes her lips once more with his.

THE END!