A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes
"Mac, why don't you just take a quick nap?" I hear for the...twenty eighth time? Yes, twenty eighth. I feel a smile grow and hear a frustrated sigh from behind me. "Mac! Are you listening?!"
"Stella, I can hear you fine." I respond warmly. "And for the twenty eighth time, I just need to finish this."
"That's what you told me twenty minutes ago. If I didn't know any better I'd say you were avoiding me." She says with a radiant smile. I turn to her and she raises an eyebrow. "Well, detective? Are you going to come peacefully, or must I take you by force?"
"It wouldn't matter what I said at this point, would it?" I ask rhetorically, to which she simply shakes her head, making her curls bounce, and suddenly I'm reminded of a slinky. "Alright, alright."
"Thank you." She takes me by my shoulders and guides me to the lab coat hooks. She goes to take hers off but I beat her to it-my mother always taught me to be a gentleman-and help her out of it. She offers me a shy smile and I feel my heart flutter. I take my own coat off and we go to the break room.
"You know I'm only taking this break because it's with you, right?" I ask honestly, too tired to mask its possible double meaning. I'm being honest; she's my best friend, and the only person I've ever felt I could lean on if I needed to. I'd much rather protect other people but I know that every once in a while Stella will kick me on my ass as a way of getting me to take a break and let her protect me. She's just a very caring person that way. Just like her hair, her heart is golden...what? Too cheesy? I thought so...but what's a man in my position to do?
"Yeah." She murmurs quietly and I could swear there's a faint red in her cheeks. The thought that I've made her blush jumpstarts my heart again and I'm once more hit by a wave of...I don't even know.
I have a sinking feeling that it's something I haven't felt in a while; love. Not just like the familial, friendly love I have for my team, either; a feeling that I'm in love with Stella Bonasera...in deep...
"Mac, you really need to take a vacation." She says as she eases her tiny frame onto the couch.
"What brought that on?" I ask as I bring over our cups of coffee. I hand her's to her and feel our hands brush for a moment. Her's is warm and soft.
"Just thinking. I mean, the last time you took a vacation would've been..."
"Peyton." I finish for her. She gives me a concerned look, and I know it came off a tad bitter. I give her a reassuring smile as I'm reminded of one of the main reasons I couldn't stay in London with her.
Actually, though Stella never asked me directly, when I first told her I was in a hotel in London she gave me a questioning look. I'd ignored it at the time, but the reason...it's a little embarrassing.
I called Peyton, Stella.
Twice.
Let me explain; first, as soon as I got on that plane I felt guilty. Guilty about leaving Stella and the team to clean up my mess, guilty that I'd left without nothing but a single word that meant I was leaving with a woman I wasn't even sure I loved. I was most guilty because I could remember Stella's face when she saw me walk out of that building. She was so relieved I was alright, and then she hugged me, and I knew I was just as relieved she was okay too. I saw Peyton running to me and I actually felt dread. I was dreading seeing the woman I'd been dating for a short while, because it would make me face something I hated: love. The love I knew deep down I didn't feel for her. When she asked me if I was okay on that plane, I responded, "I'm fine, Stella.", and that's how it all started. I'd called Peyton, Claire, before, but she seemed to have gotten over that. Calling her Stella, though, sent her off the handle for what ever reason. She started going on about how she knew I'd always had a thing for Stella. How I'd never loved her, and how I never looked at her the way I looked at Stella-and so-on and so-forth.
The second time I'd called her Stella, we were...um...we were in bed. I was...um...we were...I called her Stella-that's all you need to know. We'd had dinner at her parent's place then gone back to her's, and...it went from there. After I'd called her Stella she kicked me out, sent me on my way. I called her from my hotel, leaving her a message of apology, then slept better than I had in months. That bastard, Drew, called me at 3:33, but aside from that, I was pretty relaxed.
Obviously I never told Stella any of that, but who really wants to tell their best friend you shouted their name in bed with their British girlfriend halfway around the world? Thank you, no.
That was when I first thought that I was falling in love with Stella.
"Mac? You okay?" She asks, breaking me out of my daze.
"Oh, yeah, sorry, Stell." I sigh and smile at her. "How about this, I'll take a vacation if I find a good reason to."
"I guess I better start searching, then." She laughs quietly.
"I guess." I lean back and put my arm on the couch behind my back. Stella does the same and I feel like a teenager trying to decide whether or not to put my arm on her shoulder. I've never been one to act juvenile so I do. She looks surprised for a moment, but soon she leans into it and I must resist the urge to blow out a sigh of alleviation.
"Come on, Mac, just close your eyes for a second." She says softly, reading my mind like she's done so many times before. "I know you want to. Just do it with me, come on."
"Stell..." I murmur with mild frustration in my voice, but the sound of her steady breathing is lulling me like a sweetly sung lullaby. My mind is drifting into the realm of sleep, and normally I'd put up more of a fight. This time, though, I think I'm just going to have to let Stella win. Stella and sweet dreams. "Stell..."
"Mac!"
"Hm?" I start in my seat but quickly compose myself again. I turn to see my arm is still around Stella protectively and she's still looking at me worriedly. "Oh, Stella. What happened?"
"Nothing, you just dozed off is all." She smiles at me sweetly, touching my cheek. "I'm glad."
"How long was I asleep for?" I ask her with raised eyebrows.
"Just about an hour or so, but it's sixty minutes more than you usually sleep within two days, so I'll take it." She laughs before tucking her head under my chin. "Come on, Mac, let's go home."
"Stella, don't-"
"Mac, it's time to go home." She says pointedly with her fingers still over my lips. I look at her stubbornly but her eyes meet mine head-on. My steely blue eyes meet her sparkling peridot green ones, and I know I can't win. "Mac. Home. Now."
"Okay, come on." I say in a defeated but joking tone. I stand up, crack my back, and offer my hand to her. She takes it and lets me pull her tired body up only because we've been dating for a while. I know better than anyone that you don't offer Stella help unless she's on the ground bleeding! The sad thing is that it's hardly an exaggeration.
"I can't wait to go to bed. Actually, I want to have some ice cream first, then I want to go to bed." I hear her muse by my side.
"Stella, we don't have any ice cream at home." I frown.
"Then we'll have to get some."
I stroll by Stella down the isle of the supermarket with a small smile on my face. I've never been one to smile without reason; usually I just walk around with neither a smile nor frown. With Stella, though, I almost always have a smile...well, that's a little bit of a lie. I only smile excessively when we're together
"Do you like mini wheats?" She asks me with a happy tone.
"Mini wheats?" I ask. "I'm more of a cornflake man, personally."
"Well, they're supposed to be really high in fiber is all. Fibre is really healthy." She murmurs to herself, checking the box.
"What's with the big health food hang-up, lately, Stell?" I try to ask casually, not wanting to start anything.
"Oh, I just, uh, you know."
Yes. That answers my question. I sigh and smile weakly. "Okay."
"It's always good to keep health in mind, you know." She shrugs sheepishly. I quirk an eyebrow; Stella Bonasera does not embarrass easily, but lately she's given me that shy little smile so much I'm worried. "Besides, I'm not getting any younger."
"Stell, you're only thirty four." I say with a frown. I'm...well, let's just say I'm a few years older than her. More than four. Now are you satisfied? "What's going on?"
"Nothing! Geez!" She huffs, suddenly very offended. She continues on her way after throwing the cereal box at my head so it lands in the basket afterwards. I feel my annoyance being overcome by embarrassment as people's eyes drift to me. "Stella, wait!"
"Here!" She says sharply, shoving something else in my face.
"Oh." I blink, focusing my vision on what seems to be...yes, yes-they're macaroons. Not that odd, I suppose, except that my Stella hates coconut. "Macaroons?"
"Yup!" She responds happily, mood completely disregarded. "I decided I'd give 'em a chance, and besides, they are MACaroons."
"That crazy about me, Stell, that you associate food with my name?" I chuckle. "I've had Stella beer, but really?"
"Shut up." She murmurs, though I can hear the love in her voice, still. "Oh, I have to get something in the pharmaceutical section."
"Okay." I say plainly, not wanting to provoke another fit. "I'll just check these things out and you can find me, okay?"
"Sure." She dashes off to the in-store pharmacy leaving me to the check-out, which she knows I hate. I'm willing to do this for her, of coarse, though. I'd lie down and drown in a river for Stella, really. Don't laugh! I'm in love, so sue me...bite me...cook me and eat me!
"Good evening, sir." The young lady greets me with a smile domineered by her braces. I normally don't like to make eye contact but she seems like a nice-unsuspecting to my cranky wrath-young girl, so I nod and smile. She begins scanning our items with a smile never leaving her face, moving diligently and seeming to really love it, and I can't help but think of Stella when she's analyzing evidence. I wonder what she was like as a teenager...? "That's twenty five, eighty five."
"Hm? I beg your pardon?" I shake my head a little.
"Your total comes to twenty five, eighty five, sir." She chirps.
"Right, here you go." I fish the cash out of my pocket and hand it to her, careful not to slap it in her small hand like I usually do. I hate cashiers, what can I say? Bad experience; one in particular had really pissed me off once when he turned out to be a robber and almost shot Stella. Needless to say I was pretty pissed!
"Thank you, have a lovely evening." She smiles. "Um...I think your wife is..."
"My wife?" I blink. Oh-she thinks...Stella. "Oh, Stella."
"Yes, well it seems she's..." She turns a screen around, which seems to be connected to a security camera.I can see a head of curly hair connected to a lithe body that's standing eerily still in front of the dairy fridge. The door is open and propped against the woman, but she remains still. "And just before, this happened."
I watch speechless as multiple people jump, supposedly there was a loud noise or something, and all of a sudden Stella comes running out of the bathroom like lightning on the black&white screen. She has something in her hand, but I don't know what it is. She runs across three of the four screens until she finally comes to the fourth and sticks her head in the fridge. Okay, I'm worried now.
"Thank you, I'll go get her now."
"Sir, is this your wife?" A middle aged, and rather irritated looking man asks me.
"Yes." I say curtly, not liking how dismissive he is of her obvious distress. I don't bother to correct anyone with how we're not married, as it's just easier not to. We get mistaken for a married couple all the time. Of coarse, I can dream, right? "Stella? Honey?"
"Go away." She grumbles.
"Come on, let's get you home." I put my hand on her shoulder and gently try to pull her away but she doesn't budge. I try again but she's still as adamant as the statue she's nicknamed after. "Stell?"
"Just leave me here to drown my sorrows in ice cream." She groans in a low tone. Now I'm really worried.
"Stella, love, what's wrong?" I'm not one for pet names, but since I feel I don't tell her I love her nearly enough-I could tell her every minute of every day and it wouldn't be enough-I give her pet names. If anything, I learned to get over the embarrassment, though I can still get an absolutely adorable blush from her from time to time.
"Nooooooooo." She whines like a child.
I smile with tilted brows. "Come on, let's have some ice cream at home. Together."
She seems to contemplate it as I see a twitch in her shoulder. She turns her head ever so slightly to look at me and...she really looks miserable. It makes my heart ache, though I'd never tell anyone but her that. Her lip is in a tiny bit of a pout. I smile gently. "Okay."
I wake early the next day with a foggy mind. I'm laying in our king sized bed in only my boxers and...I turn my head to find there's no head of silky curls on my chest. I remember last night we came home, had ice cream with Friends, while she cuddled up to me on the couch. She fell asleep into the second episode of the back-to-back channel special so I carried her in here to our bed. Where is she now, though?
Walking out to the living room I'm more than a little alarmed. All of Stella's things are gone! All of the photos she had brought from her old place, her little worldly trinkets-even her clothes and jewelry from our room are gone. It's actually to the point where there's no trace of her ever living here at all. Frankly, I don't like it.
Where did you go, Stella? Why would you leave? God, why would she leave me all of a sudden? Please tell me this is a dream-a nightmare, rather.
"Stella? Stella!" I call through the suddenly ice cold apartment. "Stella, come on! Where are you?!"
Dammit! Dammit to hell!!
"Stellaaaaaaaa-"
"Shut up!" The angry neighbor shouts through the wall.
"Go to hell!" I shout back.
Obviously not able to find her I pick up the phone and dial her cell number. No answer. Shit! Okay, don't panic, Marine, think logically!
"Danny!"
"Yeah, Mac? What's up?" A drowsy voice answers.
"Where are you?" I ask sharper than I intend to, but I need to find Stella. Now. "Are you at the lab?"
"Yeah, I was just catchin' up on a few Zs. What d'ya need, boss?"
"I need you to find Stella." I say honestly.
"I thought she was with you-"
"Danny, just find her!" I bark at him.
"Okay! Let's see...ah...I got a lock on her cell. Says she's at the airport. What's goin' on, Mac? Did you and Stell have a fight? If you did anything to her-"
"I'll explain later! I think she's in trouble." I hang up even more abruptly than normal and let out a sigh through my tight lips. In my hand I hold Stella's piece and shield.
"All passengers for Greece, please proceed to gate 34." An empty voice says over the intercom. At least I know now where she's going.
I jog through the busy airport, not really caring who I bump into, just offering a quick apology and excusing myself. I continue on, rushing through the crowd in jeans and a t-shirt. It's all I had time to throw on, and I wasn't all that concerned with my appearance when I ran out of the apartment, leaving our badges and guns at home.
There!
Like a piece of gold amongst lumps of coal, I can see a halo of sun-kissed curls that bounces whenever they move forward in line. I vaguely feel my feet pick up their pace but all I really know is that the mop of curls is getting closer. It sticks up from the other heads, as it's taller than most of the heads behind it, and if it's not, I can still see it from a mile away. It turns partially, probably talking to someone behind it. It shakes a bit, as the figure shakes their head.
"Stella!"
"Mac?" She leans a bit to her right so her head pokes out from the immaculately straight line. She's wearing a deep green dress I bought for her about a month ago. We were walking in the village I just had to buy it for her; it fits her perfectly. It brings out the brighter green of her eyes, and her olive skin. The dipping v-neck is to her liking and the short sleeves are ruffled and wavy, like on that of a flamenco dress or something-I'm not a fashion expert.
"Stella-God, don't scare me like that." I huff, finally able to catch my breath now that I at least have my hands on her arms. "What's going on, Stell? I woke up and you were gone."
"Mac, I..." She looks down and leaves her place in the line, taking my hand. She guides me to a nearby window and leans against the frame. "I-I'm sorry I worried you."
"What's going on, Stella? Is it me?" I ask with worry and pain in my voice, I know. I can't bear to lose her. I can't handle that again.
"What? No! I love you, Mac." She says firmly, cupping my face with her gentle hands, and it's the most solid thing she's said to me yet.
"Then why did you leave, or try to?" I try again.
"I-I..." She takes a deep breath, preparing herself for the best or the worst, I'm not sure. "I'm pregnant."
Oh. So, it is me...kind of.
"Stell...that's what happened last night? You took a pregnancy test at the grocery store?" I ask with a raised eyebrow and I see a brief flash of embarrassment dash across her Goddess like features before she recovers, and simply nods. "And it was positive."
"I'm sorry, Mac, I'm really sorry. I-I didn't want to tell you. I didn't know if you were ready, or if you even wanted kids with me-hell, I didn't even know how long this relationship was going to last." She shakes her head, tears coming to her eyes. I'm a little hurt deep down, but I know what she means; it's not her-she didn't know how long I'd want the relationship. "Then, I saw that test, and...I just...freaked out!"
"Okay, then why disappear without a trace to go to Greece?" I ask first, deciding to work the other things out after.
"I thought that if you didn't want the baby I'd want it to be born in Greece, where it could..." She can't finish. God. I rip her bag from her grasp and pull her to me, crushing her in a tight embrace. I hold her head against my shoulder, burying my fingers into those curls I love so much. My other hand is on her back, holding her close. She's surprised for a moment, but then I feel her arms wrap around me and adjust her face on my chest, and I relax. "I'm sorry."
"Stella, don't ever scare me like that. I thought I'd lost you." I whisper with a voice raspy from worry and threatening tears. "I can't lose anyone else I love, Stella, especially not you. I'd rather die."
"Mac, I love you, more than anything. I didn't want to push you, or for you to feel an obligation to remain in our lives." She whispers back, and I notice for the first time how much I love to hear her whisper in my ear. "I thought you'd be happier if-"
"Don't. Stella, don't ever say that, because I could never be happy without you. I can't imagine my life without you."
"Mac, when I'd decided to do this, I told myself that I'd tell you, but each time I thought about it, I chickened out. I couldn't bring myself to trap you in a corner again. I thought if I got to Greece I'd figure it out from there. I'm an American Citizen, I could get citizenship for the baby after it was born and get a job somewhere else. I had everything figured out, except how I'd live without you."
"You honestly thought I wouldn't want the baby, or you?" I ask, tilting my head and looking up at her slightly. I know she can't not answer me like this, because she's told me so before. She said my eyes were like chipped or cracked ice when I did that. Her lip trembles a bit and all I want to do is hold her to me and attack the next thing that tries to hurt her. She nods and I feel my heart...I actually don't know exactly what it's doing. It's not broken, but it's not soaring; not like it was when she told me she was actually pregnant. "Stella, I love you, right?"
She hesitates, but I know it's just something in her nature she's trying to work on. Being an orphan in the past is a permanent part of her now, and I can only offer her the love she deserves and support. "Yes."
"And why did you think I wouldn't want the baby?"
"B-because, you weren't ready. We haven't even been dating a full year, and we've used protection, and been careful, and I knew you'd feel obligated to take responsibility, but a child this early could destroy our relationship in the long run, and-"
"Breathe, Stell, breathe!" I urge.
She laughs nervously and tucks a cluster of curls behind her left ear. "I-I just didn't think you'd want to have a kid with me. You told me how Claire wanted kids, but you weren't ready, why the hell would you be ready to have kids with your best friend/girlfriend after less than a year. We're not even married-I didn't think you...I didn't think you'd want to marry me." I wait patiently for her to continue, but little does she know I'd like nothing more than all she's saying. "No less a child."
"Stella, I love you more than anything. I-I want to marry you. Not just because of the baby. I want to spend the rest of my life with and our child." I can see she's still having her doubts so I force her eyes to meet mine. She gasps quietly and I know she knows. Goose bumps erupt on her arms and I smile, feeling a certain masculine pride in evoking such a reaction from a woman as beautiful as her. "Will you marry me?"
"Oh my God, yes!" She smashes her luscious-and I do mean luscious-lips against mine and it takes me less than a second to respond. She lets out a tiny, high pitched moan that I love to think I'm the cause of. She needs air, and so do I, so we pull away. "You really want to-"
"Stella." I warn, putting my finger over her lips. "Stella, Stella..."
"Mac!"
"Hm?" I start in my seat but quickly compose myself again. I turn to see my arm is still around Stella protectively and she's still looking at me worriedly. "Oh, Stella. What happened?"
"Nothing, you just dozed off is all." She smiles at me sweetly, touching my cheek. "I'm glad."
"How long was I asleep for?" I ask her with raised eyebrows.
"Just about an hour or so, but it's sixty minutes more than you usually sleep within two days, so I'll take it." She laughs, and suddenly I'm feeling a tad weighed down by deja-vu.
Was it all a dream? If it was I'm going to be so pissed.
"Stell, have you been craving ice cream recently?"
"Noooo...not really, why?" She frowns, and I just sigh and smile.
"Nothing. Let's get out of here, maybe get a late dinner?"
"Sounds good to me."
"You know, Stella, you...um...you look great!" I blurt, trying to ignore the heat that's creeping up my neck.
"Oh, thanks, Mac." She smiles, ducking her head a little and rolling her lips. I try not to drool like a pathetic man while she lets her lips roll out to their fullest again and tucks a few curls behind her ear to hide her faint blush. "You don't look so bad yourself."
"You know, I had the weirdest dream." I say aloud absently.
"What about?"
"Oh...nothing really. Say, do you like macaroons?"