This chapter includes references and quotes from Stephen King's book "The Stand" and a mention of another book. Stephen King is one of my favorite authors and I have utmost respect to the man. So please don't sue me. Hahaha…
A little introduction to the original characters as well as rundown on the previous fic, since this is a sequel. Mac and Stella spend one drunken night together and then Stella falls pregnant. Mac finds out about her condition when she was shot at a crime scene. He vows to take care of them but she gets scared of all the things happening too fast so she flew to LA to start a new life. She gives birth to Dylan Christopher without Mac, who was left in NY, knowing it. They have no contact for three years until Mac gets invited to speak at a career meeting at a school where Stella was teaching. They inevitably meet again. Father and son are finally introduced. Long story short, Stella and Dylan go back to NY to start a life with Mac. Stella and Mac get married and now, she's expecting their 2nd child. (If you want more than that, please read the EPILOGUE of "November".)
So with no further ado, here it is. Enjoy!
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I LOVE OLIVES TOO© CATE
"Mommy," Dylan said in a sleepy voice, "ahloveyou." He snuggled deeper into his big boy bed and waited for his mother to kiss him goodnight. "Very much," he finished when he felt the comforter under his chin. He was still half-awake; after all, he wanted to be up when his Daddy came home.
"I love olives too, baby boy," his mother, Stella joked, kissing his forehead. It's a running joke among their little family.
Dylan chuckled. "No, Mommy. I love you," he said. "Is Daddy home yet?"
"Not yet, sweetie," she said, looking at the Sesame Street clock. It was already 9pm. "It's a long day at work and it's way past your bedtime."
He yawned heartily and his eyes were beginning to droop. "M'kay. Tell'im I love him," he mumbled as he slipped into slumber.
"I will, baby," Stella whispered. "And I love you, too."
Stella exited her son's room and left the hall light on. She left the door ajar and padded down to their living room. The floor was littered with Dylan's blocks, toy trucks and cars, crayons and books. But instead of cleaning up, Stella Taylor flopped on the leather couch in their living room. She couldn't crouch down anyway.
She considered turning the TV on and watch some police dramas but decided against it. Even if she was a CSI, used to seeing death and gore everyday, her sensitive state would not allow her to see such.
Instead, she picked up a book on the coffee table, "Hmm, I didn't know we had a copy of this book here," she said to herself. 'The Green Mile' was sitting on the table with a bookmark sticking out from it's middle. She had read this before and loved it but she only borrowed that copy from her co-worker. She wanted to buy her own but didn't get to get around to do it. Little did she know that this is one of the things she has yet to find out about her husband.
Speaking of her significant other, the front door opened and closed – the click of the lock then followed. "I'm home," Mac Taylor said. "Stella?"
"Were you expecting someone else?" she joked from the couch. Mac sidled beside her and gave her a long deep kiss. "I needed that," she sighed after a while.
"Me too," he followed, nipping her earlobe. It was the kind of kiss that set the mood for something he had in mind.
"Long day?" she said, running her hands through his shorn hair. His tired-looking face said it all but she wanted him to say it and open up. Mac nodded and proceeded to tell her an edited version of the day. "Oh poor baby," she cooed, kissing his nose then his lips.
"How about you and Dylan?" he sighed, wrapping his arms around her and her growing belly. "When I called you this afternoon, Dylan picked it up – said you were doing something he called 'washy'."
Stella chuckled. "Yes, I was. The washing machine that Peyton gave us for our wedding is not there for decoration, you know." She took his hand and placed it on top of her bellybutton. The little child in her tummy was at that time kicking at that spot. It might be a 'wow' moment for Mac but it was 'ouch' for Stella.
"The little one's a bit feisty," Mac said trying to soothe the spot. He noticed the way his wife winced when their baby's foot hit his hand through her belly. "Shh… there, there," he whispered, putting his ear beside his hand, "take it easy in there. You're hurting Mommy and that's not very nice." Stella laughed at that. Who knew that there was this side to the Mac Taylor?
"Oh, Dylan said that he loves you before he went to sleep," she said, placing her palm to his cheek. "He wanted to wait for you but the sandman got the better of him. And he likes his finished room, by the way."
Mac straightened up and re-collected Stella in his arms. Their 'little one' has calmed down for a while. Stella knew it wouldn't last long; the baby has been alert most of the time now. "I'll kiss him goodnight when we go in," he said. Ever since Stella and Dylan moved in with him, he swore he would make his son the happiest little boy in the world. And in Dylan's eyes, Mac has been doing just that. "What does he want for his birthday anyway?" he asked. Dylan would be turning four the next week.
Stella winced again. This time, it went unnoticed by Mac. "I haven't asked him yet. Although I know he really likes those train sets we saw at Toys'R'Us three days ago," she explained. "He couldn't stop talking about it but every time I ask him whether he wants it for his birthday… he blushes and says no."
"We shouldn't have told him how much it was," he chuckled. "I didn't know he knew about money."
"Well, he did grow up with college professors around him," Stella said, admiring how their rings on their intertwined fingers sparkled under the dim light. "Jean Penn is a Calculus professor and with baby Melissa, I always found Dylan right by her."
"We're getting it for him anyway, right?" he said, admiring the same thing. He glanced at his wife and then back to the rings. Stella nodded.
He did have a ring sitting there before that moment. He had a first wife. He had been a widower. He had been married before. At first, he hated the idea of Stella being labeled as the 'second wife'. When he confided to her about it she just laughed and said she didn't care what other people thought or what they called her, "For all I know, they're happy for us. God knows how long all our friends wanted you to find someone again and me… well, let's just say, I've been single long enough. Don't worry about it – I know in my heart that they're happy that we ended up being together."
"Mac," Stella said, snapping him out of his reverie, "would you like me to work again? I mean, both of us pulling in money for the family?"
He thought for a moment. He did tell her that she didn't have to worry about money or working. He brought in enough as it is, plus all the money he saved up through the years. "Stella…"
"I know, I know we talked about this but I was wondering," she paused, "before… you didn't have children. It was just you and Claire then… just yourself again." She met his eyes and gave him a slight kiss. "But now, I'm here, Dylan's here. And not too long from now, we're going to have another one. That's three mouths to feed, not to mention one little boy to start school very soon. After I deliver, I can stay home for a couple of months and maybe I can find work teaching again."
Mac contemplated a bit. There were schools around the area where they lived. Plus, Peyton's connection with Columbia University could get her somewhere. "How about babysitters?" he asked. The idea of leaving his children with strangers didn't sit well with him and Stella knew that.
"We'll think of something," she whispered. "Maybe it'll be like my old workplace in LA, with the daycare and all that. NYPD crime lab doesn't have a lot of working parents with children under their roof so I doubt they'd have that."
"Oh the team would love to have them around," he pushed. He would rather have Don and Danny watch Dylan than some gum-popping teenager from down the street.
Dylan liked being around Don. From the moment they met, he looked up to him, technically and figuratively. And the homicide detective loved the 'little Mac' to bits. It would be nice if he would be the sitter but, "Your days wouldn't be always slow, you know. Remember, there were some days when all of us had solo cases. When that happens, we still need someone to look after them."
At last, Mac conceded to having babysitters. "Only if we screen them and do a background check," he added sternly.
At that, Stella laughed out loud. "The perks of having access to AFIS and CODIS," she said. "I'm assuming we get their fingerprints and DNA while we're at it?" Mac laughed along with her.
"Wouldn't hurt," he joked. Stella gave him a mock punch. "I'm kidding." But Stella continued to wrestle only to have it end up as a lengthy make-out session between them. He lifted her legs on his lap and leaned over to kiss her deeper.
Mac's hand started to creep up Stella's leg and under the button-down shirt she was wearing (it was actually one of his shirts; the one that had gone soft from repeated washing). His fingertips did a tango on her bump thus tickling her. Then his forefinger and middle finger walked upwards to her swollen breasts. At that, Stella sighed and sat up. At least, she tried to sit up.
"Mac…" she half-whined and half-moaned. His weight was on her without hurting her and most especially, his hand was fully cupping her right breast. "The baby," she muttered. Stella wasn't really sold on the thought of sex during pregnancy – particularly this far along.
But Mac wasn't really listening. His fingers started toying her stiff nipples and peppering her neck with kisses. And Stella wasn't really resisting. "The baby will be fine. And it's been a while," he said against her chest, unfastening three buttons of her shirt. Yet now, Stella was pushing against his shoulders. He sat up and check her face for any hurt or resentment. He found none, instead, he saw hesitation. He knew that look. And he knew how to erase it. He stood up and led her upstairs to their room.
They stopped for a while to check on Dylan and like promised, kiss him goodnight. Mac looked at Stella who was standing at the doorway, flushed and pregnant with his child. Then back to the sleeping little boy on the bed in front of him, his son – his pride and joy. His heart leapt every time he laid his eyes on him.
Their dog Blue was lounging on his doggie bed at the foot of Dylan's bed. He snapped awake when Mac cracked the door wider. Mac stared at Dylan for a while – he was hugging Mr. Cheeks as always – pulling the covers down over his son's feet. Like Stella, he would kick the blankets off his feet. And right away, he whined and kicked it off. Mac chuckled and pulled it back. This time, Blue jumped on the bed. "Blue, boy, don't," Mac whispered. But the dog wouldn't listen. He nosed the piece of fabric off Dylan's feet and then jumped off the bed. "Well, I'll be," Mac said more to himself than aloud.
He planted a kiss on his son's forehead and went over to his lovely wife to somehow continue what they had started.
Stella sat on the bed and Mac took her hand. "You know, we don't really have to do this if you're uncomfortable with it," he said to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "I'm not going to lie to you, Stella, I mean – I want this but if you don't, then it's okay," he gave her a kiss.
"Mac… it's not that I don't want it. Hell, I'd be crazy not to," she chuckled. "I'm just scared about… you know. It's not like I haven't made love with you before. Our actions," stressing it heavily, "might affect the baby. I'm not in my 20s anymore, you know."
He had to laugh. "Look, baby…" he started, "I understand your concerns but – Frannie Goldsmith still made love with Stuart Redman until at least her sixth month and you're there, too…" Stella's face was of confusion. "What?"
"Am I supposed to know who they are?" she said, stopping her husband's babbling. She was at the verge of laughing when Mac turned a tinge of pink.
"Uh… 'The Stand', Stephen King," he explained.
"And?" she pressed on. She wasn't waiting for anything; she just wanted to put Mac in an awkward situation. "Nothing wrong on being a Stephen King fan." She was familiar with the book and the story somewhat. An old friend of hers told her that every Stephen King piece he read had love scenes in them. So she would browse at the bookstore to find out if that were true. One particular exchange stood out for her. And that was from 'The Stand'.
He sighed. "Well… that's where I got the idea," he admitted. "I knew I wouldn't push you but I have to take a chance. And I need evidence to support it – even if it came from a fictional novel." He knew that sounded nerdy and unbecoming of him.
Stella was laughing. "Just when I thought I saw every side of you, Mac," she managed to say. It was getting harder to laugh because the baby in her belly was kicking again.
Mac, on the other hand, laughed along with her. "Let's go to bed, babe," he said, pulling her down and kissing her.
"All right, one sec," she said standing up and heading to the bathroom. "You get changed and I'll be right out." Mac changed into clean boxer shorts and a plain white shirt for bed and waited for Stella under the sheets.
When she came back out, she leaned against the doorframe and gave him the eye. His eyes, however, traveled further down her body and realized, "Where did your pajama pants go?" She smiled and shrugged. "What are you wearing under that shirt?" he asked firmly. His dress shirt dropped loosely around her thighs.
Things were going as planned surprisingly. "A big strong man like yourself would be able to find that out," she directly quoted from 'The Stand'. She smirked when she realized that Mac caught on with the drift. "Without my help," she finished seductively.
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So… how was it?