Hey guys, I'm back! Here in Italy they are broadcasting the sixth season of the show, so you see where I got the idea for this one-shot from. It's based on episode 6x22, with the exception that Mac has no plaster, he's just a little sore. Hope you enjoy! Feedback always appreciated.
With Peyton. She couldn't believe it. He was with Peyton.
Aubrey, she could have condoned. Come to think of it, she seemed to have been made deliberately for Mac; they made an even better match than she herself and him could ever do, despite the years of friendship which united them. Had he been with her, Stella was sure she could have even managed to squeeze a smile from her facial muscles; she had no reasons to dislike Aubrey, apart from plain old jealousy.
But Peyton? Really, Peyton?
If he got hurt, this time she would not be the supportive friend, because he'd be getting exactly what he deserved.
Damn it, Mac, can't you guard your heart a bit better?, she thought to herself, angrily looking back at Mac's windows, still faintly illuminated. Luckily, the two silhouettes had disappeared, or else…
The curly haired woman chuckled bitterly; never in a million years had she imagined she'd be lamenting the fact that her beloved partner's heart had been left unguarded. She was so deep in thoughts that the sharp chirping of her phone almost made her scream in the middle of the deserted street. Fishing it from the pocket of her jeans, she ground her teeth upon glancing at the screen.
Why the hell are you calling me, Mac?, she inwardly cursed before picking up. –Hello?-
-Stella, sorry if it took me a while to answer your call, I had the phone set on silent…-, Mac's overenthusiastic voice came from the other end of the line, startling the woman more than his words did. Not to say that they didn't leave her confused.
-Mac, what are you talking about? You called me!-, she exclaimed, perplexed. Had they been drinking? Were they wasted?
-Yeah, I know; my bad. We have a new case? Give me the address you're at and I'll be there as soon as possible. -, he kept saying, ignoring her protests without explaining his strange behavior.
-Are you completely crazy? What's going on?-, she insisted, determined to get to the bottom of the situation.
-What? I didn't get that. Can you repeat your location?-, Mac continued with his parallel conversation, slightly raising his voice as if the line was disturbed. Sighing, Stella decided to humor him and relent.
-I'm a block away from your condo. Now will you tell me what's going on with you?-, she answered irritably, hoping for both her mental sanity and his welfare that he would comply this one time.
-Okay, I'll meet you there. Don't move. -, he instructed before ending the communication. Again the woman sighed in resignation, knowing, though, that the answers to her questions were quickly approaching; at least, there was one tiny good news that night.
She didn't hear him approach, she felt his hand on her upper arm once he had already caught up with her.
-Thank God you were in the neighborhood, Stell. I don't think I would have lasted much longer. -, the dark haired man told her with a sincere and grateful expression, giving the woman the distinct impression that, had the circumstances been different, he would have hugged her.
-What happened, Mac?-, Stella couldn't help the hint of nervousness which laced her voice from showing through her pissed façade; her partner was starting to scare her. Had Peyton done something to endanger her… to endanger Mac? He wasn't hers, she reminded herself. He wasn't, wasn't, wasn't…
-Peyton happened, Stell. She refuses to leave me alone, I told her to get lost…-, he replied frantically, then, at her raised eyebrow, he slowed down and amended: -Well, not in so many words… but I made it clear I wasn't interested in going on from where we left off, where she left me. –
-Define clear. -, his partner challenged him, causing a shadow to settle over his face; he would have preferred not to mention that particular, but if Stella so demanded…
-She… tried to kiss me. I stepped back. Kinda hard to miss the meaning, uh?-, he offered, slightly embarrassed. It seemed such a lame thing to say, not to mention to do… but what was he supposed to do? He didn't want to hurt Peyton, but neither he wanted to get back with her.
His mind cleared from the depressing fog the moment Stella's face broke into a wide grin.
-So basically I saved your ass. -, she sassed. The former Marine smiled back at her, slipping his hand in hers.
-Exactly, and for that I'm eternally grateful. -, he replied, voice getting softer with each word he spoke until it was reduced to an intimate whisper. One he shared with Stella, his partner. Not Peyton. Not Aubrey. Stella. His partner.
-You eaten?-, the woman inquired equally softly. He shook his head negatively.
-Nope. I was interrupted before I had a chance to ask you if you were in the mood for pizza. -, he replied somewhat sheepishly, fearing she would misinterpret his words for an attempt to get on her good side when in truth he was being honest.
-I am!-, she told him brightly. –My place?-, she added in a wondering tone.
-The farther away from my apartment we get, the better. -, he stated resolutely.
-Stella, can you help me, please?-, Mac mumbled, letting go of the knife with a grimace. Shaking her head at the man's stubbornness, the Greek woman quickly and efficiently cut the pizza to pieces so that her partner could serve himself with only his left hand.
-Or maybe you need me to feed you, mmm?-, she added as an afterthought, gently teasing Mac. Seeing his ears turn a faint pink, she couldn't help but piling it on: -Think Peyton would have done that?-
The man's scowl deepened noticeably. –Oh, yes. -, he quickly replied, as if the fact didn't give him much joy. –She rather enjoyed it. One time I could put up with, but more… it was highly embarrassing. -, he explained. Stella smiled in sympathy, offering him a slice of pizza.
-For instance, with you it's not as awkward. -, he offered after having chewed a wicked bite. The one currently in Stella's mouth threatened to choke her.
-Sorry?-, she rasped, reaching for a glass of water. Ma shrugged.
-I have no problem in getting help from you. -, he stated. –I guess it depends on the person who offers to help you, and how they do that. -, he sighed, viciously attacking the food as he waited for his partner to comment on his words.
-Say, has Aubrey offered to feed you yet?-, she wondered after a while, surprising the former Marine with her subtle shift of topic.
-She's a lost cause, Stell. You remember our favorite pizza place, the one close to the Crime Lab? I brought her there once… well, she complained. Of all the things, she complained about the tomato sauce. -, he answered with a smile, gently shaking his head. Stella did the same, offering a slight grimace as well.
-I can't believe it. You choose complicated women, Mac. -, she baited him, curious about what his response would be. Since he was all into sharing that night, maybe he'd actually surprise her and satisfy her curiosity about Aubrey's role in his life.
-Hey, I don't choose them, they come to me! Well, Peyton did…-, he complained, giving a short bark of laughter. –As for Aubrey… I don't really know what to say. We're just friends, I think. I mean, I'm not looking for more from her, and I think neither is she, but that's just a speculation. –
-A speculation. -, Stella repeated, clearly unconvinced, eyeing her partner rather suspiciously. Mac nodded, chuckling.
-Yes, Stella. Contrary to popular belief, I don't read in the mind of other people. -, he replied, teasingly offering an enormous piece of mushroom to the woman, remembering her passion for them. She happily closed her lips around the fork, smiling at the man as she sucked on the soft morsel.
-So, Romeo, wanna watch a movie? I rented Prince of Persia, but never got to actually watch it. -, Stella offered once they were done with their dinner.
-Sure, Juliet. -, he teased, pulling the woman's hair. That resulted in a small fight, which soon moved on the sofa and ended only when Mac pulled his injured-man card on Stella. She nestled comfortably against the former Marine's side as he drew her closer with his uninjured arm, lightly placing it around her waist to support her body, a contended sigh escaping her lips.
-Mac?-, Stella called, fearing her partner had fallen asleep on her. Well, under her, considering their current position, with him laying with his back against the couch and her sprawled on top of his chest.
-Mmm?-, he mumbled rather incoherently, voice rumbling through his stomach and transmitting to her body due to their connection. He moved his hand, previously resting on her small of her back, and started drawing abstract patterns on her whole back, faintly tracing the line of her spine. She shivered.
-Why isn't this awkward?-, the woman inquired softly, stroking Mac's side with her palm.
-We've known each other for over a decade. We've got to have each other's backs at work. We trust each other. -, he quickly replied, despite the sleepy tone. –Come to think about it, I think that's why my relationship with Peyton didn't work out. I put up with every stupid thing she put me through because I knew I could always get away and hide at your place, where I could unwind and just be myself. -, he reasoned, scratching Stella's head through her unruly curls. She shoved his hand away without much conviction, and only then started meditating on his words.
-Then, it's my fault you guys split up?-, she couldn't help but infer.
-Of course not. It's mine, because I let her do whatever she wanted with me. It figures she brought me to the opera for my birthday…-, he answered with no small amount of humor in his tone. Stella laughed as well.
-That's the most absurd thing I've ever heard. Really, opera for a guy's birthday? You should have dumped her that day. -, she sentenced, the fear of falling from her precarious position a perfect excuse to hug Mac's waist with both hands.
-Damn right. You know what? Aubrey can go to hell as well, since she doesn't like my favorite pizza place. -, the former Marine exclaimed suddenly, causing his partner to laugh harder.
-So you're gonna stick with friends from now on?-, she couldn't refrain from asking.
-I'm gonna stick with you. -, he bit back seriously, stroking her curls. Sensing there was a deeper meaning to her partner's words, Stella threw caution to the wind and slipped a hand under his T-shirt, her fingertips getting in contact with hot bare flesh.
-Say, would you feel embarrassed if I did this?-, she inquired, voice dropping to a seductive whisper. Mac's eyes, until then for the most part closed, snapped open, dark blue meeting sparkling green.
-No. But I would stop you if I knew you're doing that just because you feel sorry for me. We've never been friends with benefits, and never will be. -, he answered with an air of finality in his tone, searching Stella's eyes to ensure she had fully comprehended his meaning.
-Great, because I don't feel sorry for you. -, the woman growled, swiftly divesting the man of his shirt, eliciting a yelp of protest from him as she hit a sore spot in his wrist. She ignored him and pinched his left nipple hard, harder, until he whimpered again.
-That's for following Aubrey around like a puppy. You're supposed to follow me, got that?-, she hissed, watching in pleasure as the man under her nodded meekly. –Only me, okay?-, she asked again.
-Only you, yes. Always. Forever. Eternally. -, he swore, pushing her head down to seal his promise with a scorching kiss.