Chapter 1

Jo swirled the wine in her glass around in circles for what seemed like the millionth time that night. Glancing up at the man across the table from her, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose. Opening her eyes again, she saw his inquiring glance – chin tilted downward, eyebrows arched, waiting.

"I just...," she began, not wholly sure how to continue. "I'm just so sorry, Mac."

Mac looked into his glass, consulting the beer inside, wondering if it would give him the proper response. He never could figure out how to respond to "I'm sorry." He knew Jo meant it, but the meaningless platitudes of so many before her left a bad taste in his mouth, even now.

"It's been a long time," he said softly, without looking up.

Jo stared at the top of his head, waiting for more. As she was taking another sip of wine, Mac looked up and made eye contact. He smiled a half smile, his upper lip lifting on just one side. Jo offered one in return.

"Almost 10 years," he continued. "Sometimes it feels like just yesterday; other times it feels like ages ago. I don't know which one is better."

"Does it get easier?" Jo dared to ask.

Mac thought for a moment before explaining, "No. Not easier, but it changes. You go for longer without thinking about it, and then you remember, and it's not as awful. It's a part of you, just like something you always carry – a wallet, a phone, the memory of your wife. They're all the same; you put them in your pocket and don't notice them until you go looking for one or the other."

Jo nodded, then hesitantly asked, "Would you tell me about her?"

"Claire," he breathed. "Claire was amazing. She was so many things that I am not: open, affectionate, spontaneous. She could get me to talk about anything, even when I didn't want to. But she never pushed; she just waited patiently until I started talking, and then the words would just kind of tumble out of my mouth. We shared everything, and I... I was in a bad way after I lost her."

She wanted to reach out and touch him, to hold his hand, to hug him. Something. Something to keep him from slipping away into melancholy, as Lindsay had hinted he'd been prone to do.

"I wish I could have met her. She sounds...," Jo paused. How did Claire sound? "She sounds perfect," Jo finished.

Mac chuckled. "I don't know about perfect. She was feisty, too, and opinionated. When we got into it, we got into it. I mean, watch out."

"I couldn't imagine Mac Taylor with a willowy woman, anyway," Jo laughed.

Mac echoed her laughter before growing serious once more. "You know, in a lot of ways, you remind me of her."

Jo was visibly startled. She reminded Mac of the love of his life? Of the woman whose loss he'd been grieving for almost 10 years now? What sort of parallel universe had she fallen into?

"You look surprised," he observed, taking another sip of his beer.

"I am," Jo whispered, her gaze darting from his.

"Why?" Mac asked, staring intently at her, waiting.

When Jo didn't respond, he repeated the question, putting his glass down on the table. He rested a hand on the table, about halfway across, just short of where Jo's was resting.

"Why, Jo?"

At the sound of her name, she returned her gaze to his. He was looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to explain her surprise. How was she going to explain this one? The thoughts raced around in her head. If he only knew the kind of torture it was for her to hear that she reminded him of his late wife, whom he adored, according to everyone at the lab who had been around when Claire was still alive. It was too much, Jo decided.

"I don't know," Jo shrugged. "It's just not something I expected you to say, I guess."

The answer seemed to satisfy Mac for the time being, and he didn't press the issue. Jo smiled at him, biting the right side of her bottom lip. Mac's eyes were inexplicably drawn to the lip she was chewing on, and he felt an odd stirring in the pit of his stomach.

"Do you want anything else to drink?" he asked.

"No, I'm good," Jo replied. "In fact, I should probably get home soon. Ellie has a soccer match in the morning, so I've gotta get her up bright and early."

Mac nodded, sensing that Jo had more to say.

"Mac," she began. "Listen, I really appreciate you telling me about Claire. I know it isn't really any of my business..."

"Jo, it is your business," he affirmed. "You're my partner, and even more than that, you're my friend. Claire was a big part of my life. Besides, I think she would have liked you."

Jo smiled a soft smile, saying, "Thank you, Mac. That means a lot."

"Well," Mac said, his voice rising from the muted tone in which the previous topic had been discussed. "It looks like we're closing the place down after all. So much for just a quick drink, huh? Should we move on?"

"Oops! I hadn't even noticed," Jo exclaimed, scanning the bar to find they were the only ones left. She made eye contact with the sole bartender, and whispered, "It would seem as though he's ready for us to leave, anyway."

Mac paid, despite Jo's protests, and helped her into her jacket. By Mac's account, it was spring; but Jo said Southern gals wore jackets for anything under 65, and he took her word for it. As the bar door closed behind him, he felt Jo loop her arm through his in an all-too-familiar gesture that simultaneously disarmed him and sent all his senses into overdrive.

"So," she said, turning her head to look at him with a coy smile. "Has there been anyone else?"

It was a question she wouldn't have asked without the background information Lindsay had already provided. Jo had wondered out loud one day in Lindsay's presence if Mac was dating anyone, and Lindsay, craving some good girl talk since Stella's sudden departure, had explained that just a few women had entered Mac's life since Claire's passing. Jo had, of course, inquired about her mystery predecessor, but Lindsay had assured her their relationship had been strictly professional.

Jo raised her eyebrows at him, and Mac laughed.

"I should have known it wouldn't take you long to ask. On your first day, when you told me about our victim's dating habits based on the smell of her perfume, I expected you'd quickly immerse yourself in the lab's social scene..."

"Which you, of course, would prefer not exist, Mr. Stoic," she said with a mock serious face.

"Hah, hah," Mac said with a roll of his eyes. "Am I that obvious? That much of a hardass? It's not that I don't want people in the lab to be friends; I just don't want it distracting them from their work."

"I'm just teasing you, Mac. You're a great boss, and you've earned the respect of everyone in that lab," Jo said. "But back to the original question... anyone?"

"You're relentless," Mac sighed, before continuing as they walked down the sidewalk toward the subway station entrance. "There have been a few. I was... how do I say this? Slow to start dating again. It took me a few years to even take my wedding ring off for the first time. Stella, who would have loved you and vice versa, was a big help. She pushed me, hard."

"Anyone serious?" Jo inquired, hoping she wasn't pushing it but encouraged by Mac's previously-expressed appreciation for tough women.

"One," Mac said, looking up toward the sky. "And one I thought could have been."

"Well that's good, Mac," she said, leaning into him at bit as if to emphasize that she was addressing him.

Mac just smiled and kept walking.

"Are you headed my direction?" Jo asked as they reached the subway stairs.

"I am," Mac nodded. "But I think I'll walk."

"You sure?" Jo asked.

"I am. Have a good night, Jo. Thanks for the talk," he said, disentangling his arm from hers.

"Anytime, Mac," she said, descending the first step.

As he began to walk away, Jo called to him once more, "Mac! Ellie's game is at 9 am tomorrow. Any chance you'd want to join me? I could use another imposing presence on the sideline."

Mac thought for a moment. "Well, sure," he said. "Are you sure she won't be embarrassed, though?"

"That's the point, silly!" Jo laughed. "If I'm not there to embarrass her, no one ever will. Plus, she's really good; she needs someone to bring her back down to earth, or her head will never fit through another doorway."

"I'm sure all the other soccer moms bow down before you in awe of your cheering skills," Mac said dryly. "I'll be there just to see those."

"Great!" Jo exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "Ellie will be so excited to have someone besides me or Tyler watching her play. Maybe she'll be inspired and get a hat trick or something."

"I have no idea what that means," Mac said.

"Oh, so much to learn, Mac Taylor! A hat trick is three goals by the same player in one game. You'll learn the rest on Saturday. Kick-off's at 9 sharp. She plays on field three in Riverside Park, so use the 72nd street entrance."

"I'll be there, pom-poms and all."

Jo rolled her eyes. "See ya then, Mac."

With that, she was bounding down the steps; and Mac was left standing on the sidewalk, feeling both elated and confused.