Title: Means, Motive and Opportunity
Author: Cyclone
Rating: PG13
Category: Fluff, Humour
Pairings: Stella/Mac
Summary: She was abusing the chain of command and what's more, she was flaunting it by laughing at him.
Notes: Many thanks to Kate, for the read-through and suggestions.
XxX
Mac frowned as he studied the evidence in his hand. No matter how many times he went over it, it still didn't make sense. He had a victim. He had a crime scene. He even had a murder weapon. What he didn't have was a suspect. Actually, that wasn't quite true. He had three suspects, and as far as he was concerned they all could have done it. His gut was leaning towards one in particular though, and he knew that all he needed was one more piece of the puzzle and everything would fall into place. One more piece of the puzzle and he'd have all the evidence he needed to put the suspect away for good. The trouble was he had no idea where that piece was.
He took a breath and paused for a moment to watch his team in action. They were good, he conceded with a wry smile, even though right now they weren't exactly living up to their normally high standards. Danny and Lindsay were obviously working the same angle even while pretending not to, Flack seemed to have gone over to Stella's payroll and wasn't even bothering to keep him in the loop, and every now and then Stella would hand him something that confirmed what he already knew. It was beyond frustrating, and he was tired of hitting his head against a brick wall.
He frowned as Stella passed on another piece of useless information. "I know that already," he snapped. "We all know that already. Don't you have anything else to show me?"
Stella's brows shot up and Mac immediately regretted his outburst. It wasn't her fault if she had nothing, and he shouldn't be taking out his frustrations on her, especially in front of the rest of the team.
"Sorry," he said after a few beats. "Just . . . something new would be good, Stel."
"I agree, Mac, but I can't conjure up evidence out of thin air."
He looked at her then, looked long and hard, because something in her tone didn't ring true. She held his gaze and then deliberately turned away, looking for all intents and purposes as if she was studying the evidence. But her eyes were dancing.
"Stella," he warned.
"Mmmm?"
"You've got something."
"No I don't."
She was lying. He knew she was lying, and she knew that he knew she was lying, and now everyone else had stopped what they were doing and were looking at them, leaving him with no doubt that they knew that she was lying too. He ignored the curious looks from the rest of his team and lowered his voice. "May I remind you that I'm your boss?"
He should have remembered that intimidation didn't faze her. "Remind away," she said lightly. "But as my boss you should know that the chain of custody doesn't necessarily start and end with you."
This was so wrong. She was abusing the chain of command and what's more, she was flaunting it by laughing at him. She wasn't doing it visibly though; oh no, she was being sneaky about it by projecting an innocent and slightly hurt air which he knew was complete and utter crap. Previous experience had taught him that whenever Stella went out of her way to convince him of her innocence she was usually anything but. He had her number alright, but none of this showed on his face, even when she patted his arm and traded knowing glances with Flack.
Suddenly he really wanted to shoot Flack, and not just because he obviously knew what Stella knew. Thirty minutes ago he'd been confident in his belief that he had the suspect, murder weapon and crime scene all firmly under wraps. He didn't have a motive, but that wasn't his job. He'd had the suspect, and that was the most important thing. Then, quite suddenly he realised that he didn't have the suspect at all. That Stella had the suspect, and that for some unknown reason, she was denying him the access he wanted.
"Fine," he said, deciding that it would be better if he played along for now. He could shoot Flack and Stella later. Well, maybe not Stella. He'd think of something else to do to her.
He sighed. "Go on then, get it over with," he told the slightly superior woman beside him.
"Get what over with?"
"'I told you so.' You're dying to say it."
She smirked – right to his face this time, and as annoyed as he was he couldn't help but smile back. "I wouldn't dream of saying that to my boss."
"Just do it already."
Flack and Danny had already put down their cards, but Lindsay still held onto the slim chance that Stella didn't have everything she needed. He could have told her that hope was futile; Stella was far too smug to not know exactly what she was doing.
"I accuse Professor Plum, in the conservatory, with the spanner."
She laid down her cards in triumph and checked the envelope. "Told you that I'd wipe the floor with you," she said to Mac, oblivious to the fact that there were three other people she'd been playing against.
"That you did," he replied, trying to ignore the foot that was steadily creeping its way up his leg.
"You owe me now, Mac. Winners choice, wasn't it?"
She knew perfectly well that it was. He was growing to love this aspect of her personality that always had to rub things in. He'd remember it for next time, of course, and if the situation were reversed really make her pay, but in the meantime it cost him nothing to let her gloat.
"Winners choice," he agreed.
She smiled at him as if they were the only two people in the room as her foot inched past his thigh.
"I'm sure I can think of something for you to do."
End.