Mac Taylor hated paperwork. It was, however, part of running his lab so everyday he tried to set aside a couple of hours to deal with the messes that consistently ended up in front of him. He heard the door to his office whoosh open softly and looked up, the lines on his face melting into a gentle smile when he saw the face of his girlfriend of the past six months, Stella Bonasera, in his doorway.

"Hey," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Nice work on the Hanson case today."

"Thanks. Are we still on for dinner?" One of the things Stella loved about Mac was that he somehow walked the line between being there for her whenever she needed and being careful not to smother her.

"Yeah, I just need about two hours to clear this mess of my desk. Is that okay?"

"No problem. I'll get it started so it should be ready when you get there." Stella winked. "See you soon."

Mac watched her walk to the elevator, stopping briefly to chat with Lindsay and Don before all three boarded the elevator to head home. Their relationship had come about slowly, somewhat unintentionally. It had been nearly eight months before that Stella had come over after work to have dinner and watch a movie. They had fallen asleep on the couch, and during the night had shifted so that when the sunrise woke them the next morning, Mac was lying on his back with Stella on top of him. But instead of the situation being awkward, both had felt something click. It felt so incredibly right to wake up together, to get ready for work together (Stella kept an emergency bag of clothes at his apartment just as he kept one at hers), and to drive to the office together.

It had been a slow process though; Mac was even more reserved after Peyton had dumped him by mail and Stella had been very worried that she was going to lose her best friend if things between them didn't work out. And with her record, she was afraid they wouldn't.

Mac was just about to finish his latest supply requisition form (where did all of the rubber bands manage to disappear to?) when the phone rang. "Taylor," he answered, pulling another form in front of him.

"Mac," the voice on the other end was weaker than he remembered it, almost broken sounding.

"Peyton," he said, his attention diverted from the forms. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry to bother you at work, but there's something that I have to tell you." He could hear Peyton take a deep breath, one that sounded like she was wheezing slightly, and then she continued. "I have cancer. Breast cancer. It's quite advanced."

"I'm so sorry, Peyton," Mac whispered.

"There's more though. I…we…about two months after you left, I found out I was pregnant."

Mac drew a sharp breath. "I have a child? You didn't think I might like to know?"

"I know that you would have wanted to know. You're a good man Mac; you would have come here to be with us. Or you would have wanted us to go back to America. But all that would have done is made one of us miserable in the long run. I couldn't ask you to do that. But now, I've had a double mastectomy and chemo and radiation. But it didn't work. The cancer metastized to my liver and my lungs and my stomach and I'm going to die. I need you to come get our daughter, to raise her."

Mac sat in his office, frozen to his chair, trying to process everything that Peyton had told him. She was sick, dying. And they had a daughter. "Peyton," he said softly, his voice cracking. "Are you sure?"

"She needs to be with her father, Mac. My parents have been wonderful, but they're just not young enough to raise an infant."

"I wasn't…I meant your diagnosis. Do you want to come here? I'll get you the best doctors in the city."

Peyton smiled weakly. "I've already spoken with the top oncologist in London, Mac."

"What's her name?" he finally asked softly.

"Emily Claire Taylor. She'll be one next week. Please, Mac. I…I need you to do this, sooner rather than later. Everyday I get weaker and I can't seem to gather the energy to take care of her. I have a nanny, but I'm not being a good mother. I want you and Stella to take her, so I know she's safe and loved."

"Stel…Stella?" Mac stammered, wondering how in the world Peyton could have known about their relationship when he and Stella had both been extremely vigilant about keeping it out of the lab. To his knowledge, none of their co-workers had the slightest clue that they were involved romantically.

"Emily will need a woman in her life. And Stella…" Peyton's voice caught on a sob. "Stella will be a good mother to her."

Across the ocean, Mac shook his head. He was still mostly in shock, hell he'd just found out that the woman he'd been half in love with for the better part of a year was dying and that he was a father all within fifteen minutes. But he could hear Peyton's tears and could only imagine how her heart must have been breaking. "You're her mother, Peyton. Nothing will ever change that. But Stella will make an excellent aunt."

At that sentence, Mac froze. Stella loved babies; he knew that for a fact. And while he had no doubt that she'd revel in her role as aunt, he wasn't entirely sure how she'd react to finding out that he had a child who they were both now expected to raise. He knew she'd be understanding, even sympathetic. He just hoped that she wouldn't be hurt because while the last thing he'd ever want to do was hurt Stella, his rock, he had someone else to think of now too, a baby.

"Mac?" Peyton asked tentatively when he had been quiet for several minutes. "When can you get here?"

Her voice had shaken him out of his stupor and Mac blinked. "I'll check for flights when I get home tonight. I'll try to get one for tomorrow afternoon or the next day, there are some things I need to take care of on my end. I'll be there as soon as I can though, I promise."

"Thank you," Peyton whispered. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you about Emily Claire before."

"We'll worry about that later. Would…is it alright with you if I bring Stella along? I'll need some help on the flight home."

"Of course. Just call with the flight information." Peyton yawned in spite of herself.

"Try to get some rest and I'll be there in a couple of days," Mac promised before hanging up. He sat in his office, staring through the glass walls into the hallway without really seeing anything at all. Thoughts were spinning through his head far too quickly for him to make sense out of any of them; much less come up with a plan of attack for the new course his life had suddenly veered off on. The one thing that was very clear was that he needed to talk to someone about everything. Not just someone, his best friend. With that, Mac stood up from his desk, grabbed his suit coat from the rack, and headed out of the office.

When Mac arrived at Stella's apartment, he was still somewhat in a daze. He used his key in the door automatically. They'd had keys to each other's apartments for years before they began a relationship, though then they'd been for emergency use only. Now, however, they came and went freely and frequently between their two homes. Mac shrugged off his suit coat and draped it over the couch as he toed off his work shoes.

He knew he was lucky to even be allowed into Stella's apartment. While she usually had the rule about no men in her home, he had already been in her apartment many times before they began dating. After Claire's death, he had even stayed with her for several weeks. When they began dating, Stella had considered enacting her rule, barring him from the apartment to keep her safe haven, if need be. However, she'd quickly realized that if things went sour with Mac she'd have move anyway because her life was already so entwined with his that, whether she enacted the rule or not, the apartment was still filled with memories of him.

"Mac?" Stella called, peeking around the kitchen with her familiar grin. "You're early, dinner isn't quite…" she trailed off as she came all the way around the corner and the smile fell from her face when she saw the look in his eyes. "What's wrong?"

Mac reached out and pulled her close to him, breathing deeply the familiar scent of her shampoo. His grip tightened and Stella held him tighter in response. After several minutes, he pulled back and framed her face, kissing her gently. "Can we talk?" he asked softly.

Stella's stomach clenched. She knew this wasn't going to be good. "Of course." She took his hand and led him to the couch. Once there, Mac sank down, pulling Stella next to him. They were both quiet for several minutes before she couldn't stand the silence any longer. "What happened?"

Mac drew a deep breath. "After you left tonight, I got a phone call from Peyton."

Stella's heart dropped. Yes, she had liked the other woman and had even approved of her relationship with Mac. Of course, that had only been until Peyton had done something that Stella found completely unforgivable. She'd hurt Mac by breaking up with him, not in person or even on the phone, but by a letter. Stella thought it was incredibly cold for the first woman Mac had opened his heart to since Claire's death to treat him that way. And still a little part of her was nervous. She loved Mac, had for years, and wanted nothing more than his happiness. There was a small voice in her head, taunting her that Peyton was going to come back and take Mac away from her.

"She told me…she has cancer, Stel."

Stella's jaw dropped in horror. "Oh my God," she whispered. Okay, she was angry at Peyton, but she had once considered her a friend and wouldn't wish cancer on her worst enemy.

"It started in her breast, she had a double mastectomy. They tried radiation and chemo, but it was too advanced. She…she said it was in her liver and her stomach and her lungs. According to her doctors, there's nothing else they can do." Mac's eyes filled with tears and Stella leaned forward, embracing him tightly as she blinked her own tears back.

"God Mac, I'm so sorry," she whispered as she held him and was surprised when he pulled away, instead holding both of her hands in his.

"There's more. A few months after I left London, Peyton found out she was pregnant." Stella gasped, but Mac continued. "She didn't tell me, I swear I didn't know. But that's the reason she called. She wants me to come to London and pick up our daughter."

"Daughter?" Stella squeaked, shocked. "You have a daughter? Why didn't Peyton tell you?"

Mac sighed, running a tired hand over his face. "She said that if she'd told me, I would have come to London. She's right, I would have. And she said that if I went to London, I would have ended up resenting her, maybe even the baby."

Stella saw the many emotions playing over his face and did the only thing that she could think of. Gently sliding her hands out of his, she reached out and hugged him tightly. "You would never have resented your child, Mac. Peyton should have told you."

Mac held her tightly to him, wondering briefly how she could always manage to soothe his soul. "I agree, but there's nothing we can do about it now. She made a choice and I have to figure out how to deal with what comes next."

Stella pulled back and shook her head slightly. "No Mac, we need to figure out how to deal with what comes next."

"You're sure?" Mac asked softly, running his fingers through her dark curls.

She stared at him, aghast. "Of course I'm sure! What…what kind of question is that?!"

"Well, I really wasn't sure how you'd react, if you'd be even remotely interested in helping me raise her, raising another woman's child."

Green eyes flashed dangerously and Stella had to count to thirty before she was calm enough to answer without snapping because right then, snapping wasn't what Mac needed. And he probably hadn't meant it the way it had come out anyway. "You must have a pretty low opinion of me to think that I'd turn away from your child, just because I hadn't given birth to her," she had tried to be nice, really, but the hurt and anger came through in her voice anyway.

As she began to pull away from him, Mac caught his girlfriend's wrist, holding her in place gently. She knew she could break the hold if she tried, but she paused instead. "I'm sorry," Mac whispered. "That didn't come out right."

"If you don't want my help with the baby, just say so," Stella's voice rang with pain and Mac tugged her gently so she was seated on his lap.

She refused to look at him, afraid of seeing rejection, so he cupped her chin and turned her head. When she still wouldn't meet his eyes he spoke softly, pleadingly. "Stella." Stella sighed but raised her eyes to meet his. "I want your help with Emily. I need your help with Emily. I've just had my world turned upside down and the whole way over here I was going through the worst case scenario. I was afraid that, even though I want you here more than anything, you…well…wouldn't want to be a part of it. I didn't really think that you'd leave, but I was trying to prepare myself for the worst."

She was quiet, absorbing what he had just said and the implications. Finally, she nodded. "Her name is Emily?"

"Peyton said she named her Emily Claire. She'll be one next week."

"When are you leaving?" Stella whispered, already beginning to create a mental to-do list.

"I haven't looked at flights yet but I'm hoping tomorrow afternoon or the next day. I have to talk to Sinclair about emergency leave. Can you be ready by then?"

Confusion darkened her green eyes as she looked at him. "Can I be ready by then?"

"I want you to come with me," Mac answered as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I need you there."

Stella sighed. "But if I come, who'll run the lab? And someone needs to get your apartment ready. It isn't exactly toddler friendly, you know."

Mac groaned in frustration. "I'll find someone to cover the lab Stella. And how long can it take to get a room ready for Emily?"

"I'm going to pretend you didn't ask that. I suppose Hawkes could run the lab, it'll only be for a few days, right?"

"Probably a week. I'm sure Peyton will at least want to spend Emily's first birthday with her." Unspoken was the fact that it would be the only birthday Peyton would spend with her daughter.

"We still haven't solved the problem of setting up the apartment. I'm sure Hawkes wouldn't be thrilled with that task."

"We could ask Lindsay and Danny?" Mac suggested, though he was kidding about the latter.

It worked because Stella chuckled. "I would pay money to see Danny picking out baby bedding, but do you want the entire NYPD to know about this? He and Flack gossip like old women."

Mac laughed softly. "Okay, so Danny's out. By association, so is Flack. Adam would decorate the room in some weird online simulation game."

"You mentioned Lindsay. We could trust her. Unless…do you want everyone to know now?"

"No. It would bring up far too many questions while we're gone and can't answer them. I'm not even sure that I have the answers to them. I would feel bad though, asking Lindsay to lie to Danny."

"He'll forgive her," Stella assured him, resting her head on his shoulder. "And I think she'll enjoy it." She stood up then, pulling him with her. "Call Sinclair now, I'll check the flights out of JFK for tomorrow. But we should at least meet with the team before we leave and tell them we'll be gone."

While Mac dealt with Sinclair, something Stella didn't envy him at all, she managed to book them on a 4:00 flight out of JFK. Then, because she needed a return date, she gave them ten days in London and booked an extra seat on the way back for Emily. She looked up from the computer when Mac's hands rested on her shoulders.

"I explained everything, in far more detail than I wanted to. He agreed to give me six weeks paternity leave. But you only have two weeks."

Stella nodded. "You need to pack. I'll call Lindsay and fill her in."

Mac chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I need to pack? Hon, have you ever seen how much you pack? Why don't you get started and I'll check on dinner. We can call Lindsay and Hawkes after we eat."

She arched an eyebrow at him which, considering that she was leaning backwards and looking at Mac upside down was less effective than she'd planned. "I can be packed in less than an hour."

"Get started then," he smiled. "Do you want to stay here tonight, or go over to my place?"

"Where are you planning on being?" she asked back.

"Wherever you are," Mac admitted.

"Doesn't make sense to go to your place and pack then come back here," Stella pointed out, pleased that he wanted to spend the night with her. They didn't every night and she'd been a little scared that the dual shocks of finding out that Peyton was dying and that she'd born his child would make Mac retreat into his famous shell, keeping everyone including her out.

"Very true. So since we're here, you pack."

Stella's brow furrowed. "Did I just win or lose this debate?"

"I'm not sure," he smiled. "But you're wasting your hour of packing."

She stood up quickly. "The tickets should be in my e-mail any second, can you print them?"

"Got it." Mac smiled as he watched Stella hurry towards the bedroom, probably mentally panicking at only having an hour to pack.

In the bedroom, Stella dragged her suitcase out of the closet, dumped out the shoes that she'd stuffed in there, and threw it open on her bed. Going drawer by drawer, day by day, and outfit by outfit, she was able to pack in forty minutes, a record for her. She dragged the suitcase off the bed and wheeled it to the front door, walking into the kitchen. "All packed."

Mac turned from the stove where he'd just set the chicken dish from the oven. "Good timing." He walked over to Stella and pulled her into his arms. "Thank you," he whispered. "I'm sorry I'm throwing you into this."

"You're getting thrown into this too," she reminded him, holding him tightly and rubbing his back gently. "We're going to be okay though. We'll make this work."

Despite himself, Mac felt himself relax slightly, believing her words though he knew she couldn't guarantee success anymore than he could. "I love you, Stella."

She smiled and kissed him lightly. "I love you too. Come on, we have a lot we need to get done before tomorrow." She skirted around him and grabbed two plates, dishing them up expertly before hurrying into the dining room. They both knew the routine well enough to know that Mac would bring drinks with him. But before they sat down, Stella grabbed a pad of paper, her reading glasses, and a pen.

"What are you doing?" Mac asked, cutting a piece of his chicken and taking a bite.

"You know how you asked how long it would take to set up Emily's room?" Stella responded, not looking up as she added something else to her list.

"Yeah. She'll need a crib and a stroller. I already have a dresser. Peyton should have clothes and toys for her."

Stella sighed, rolling her eyes as she pushed her glasses onto her head. "Babies need a lot more than just someplace to sleep and ride, Mac. Just how much time have you spent around babies?"

"Not much," he reluctantly admitted. "Only child of only children. No cousins."

"First of all, your apartment is very nice, but the guest room doesn't exactly scream nursery. So it'll need at least some decorating. Yes, you'll need a crib. And a changing table. Emily's not one yet, she's still in diapers. Plus, diaper pails, bedding, a rocking chair would be good, um," Stella consulted her list, shrugged, and just handed it over.

Mac glanced down the list, then back up at his girlfriend. "Baby gate?"

"Do you want to be able to let her play in her room unattended? Trust me, it's a good idea. I know Peyton will have a lot of these things too, but you'll need them right away." She took the list back and continued writing, only to realize a few minutes later that Mac hadn't taken another bite. "Mac? What's wrong?"

He shook his head, face pale. "I have no idea what I'm doing here Stel. I'm about to become a parent to a baby I don't even know. How in the hell am I supposed to be a good father when I didn't even know Emily existed?"

Stella reached over, covering his hand gently with hers. "You'll learn, Mac. No one knows how to be a parent instinctively; you have to learn as you go. You're in the same boat as every other new parent out there. None of them knew their child before they were born. You're just getting a little bit later of a start."

"I won't be able to do this without you," Mac whispered.

"Yes you would," Stella smiled. "But you won't have to."