Disclaimer: no, still don't own them … and don't really own the story idea either, that was svufan4ever's suggestion :)

Since it's my birthday I thought it might be a good idea to post this today ;)

Mac's POV

There's only a handful of people on the street as I drive along. I can't help wondering what they are up to. Hoping that they are on their way home or to work, hoping that they will arrive safely. I wish nobody would get killed today, nobody would commit a crime. The same I wish every day, but maybe a little more today. It would just be nice if today all deaths that we have to look into turned out to be accidents.

Only a handful of people, too early for more, or too late, depending on how you look at it. For me it's neither. 5:23am is what the clock in my car says. Okay, so I am a little bit tired, but it's not like I'm not used to it, I have definitely been getting too little sleep for much worse reasons. It will be worth it, I hope.

I park the car and open the door. I take a deep breath; the air is crisp and could probably even be considered clean. At least it feels cleaner than at practically any other time of day. A starlit sky, I enjoy the brief walk through comparative darkness and silence. Looking up at her window I see that there is no light, as I had hoped, good to know that I'm in time, good to know that she's still asleep. She should be, at this time. For a brief moment I wonder if I should wait outside but for standing around it is a bit too cold. I don't want to walk around either, don't want to miss when she turns on the light.

My fingers glide over metal, warm in my pockets. Her keys, I have no intention to use them but ever since Frankie I've always had them on me. Praying that I will never need them. Maybe that's one of the reasons why I don't want to use them. A reminder, I remember too well how I had felt, sitting on her bed while she was lying in a hospital bed. Like an intruder, because of someone who couldn't take 'no' for an answer. And despite knowing that she was alive and that she'd get up again I couldn't feel relief, somehow I still can't. Every time I remember it, it kind of stirs up a black cloud. I want to keep it away from her. The memory of her rule is spinning in my head.

I want to make her happy, and I'd leave if that's what it takes. But I hope it isn't. I hope she won't send me away. I stand in the almost dark before her door and begin to wonder if this really is a good idea. I don't want her to be alone. Ever, but particularly not today. I wonder what it's like to celebrate one's birthday in an orphanage. She's never talked much about the orphanage, but I'm guessing that all the children would participate, whether you wanted them to or not. Did she have any friends 'outside' that she could invite? Did she have a choice at all whom she'd invite?

I think back, as outgoing as Stella is, as quiet she becomes on her birthdays. No less lively at work, it's just that … somehow she doesn't seem to want to celebrate. No special day for her, no special treatment for her. Though I'm pretty sure she won't mind that I plan to keep her away from the paperwork all day today. The thought makes me smile; I hope that means that it's a good idea.

I hope being here is a good idea too. Wish this were something I could look into scientifically and get a clear answer. A mass spectrometry of emotions would be great. Stella is so much better when it comes to gut instincts. My marine instincts don't exactly apply here. They don't even apply when I'm in a battle with Stella. I hope being here won't get me into one. No, I guess good intentions will count for something.

But what if it upsets her, or makes her sad? God knows that I don't want to make her sad, and I guess she knows too but is that going to help? Damn, it seemed like a good idea all of this week, but now – standing and waiting in the greenish darkness, with nothing to do but to think, and look for a strip of light that will sooner or later appear on the floor before me. Though I want her to sleep as long as possible I find myself hoping it will be sooner. Before I change my mind and turn around.

No, I'm not going to chicken out. The worst that can happen is that she'll take my offerings and then close the door. No, the worst that can happen is that she won't take my offerings … that I'll upset her because she doesn't want anything special … that I'll make her sad because I remind her of something. Damn. No, I'm here, I'll stay. Bet she'd find out that I was here anyway.

I almost jump when the slit of light under her door flares up. I could still back out. I take a deep breath, maybe there's some of her determination in the air. My knuckles find the door, beat a rhythm into it, a rhythm I know she'll recognize. Answered by silence. I strain my ears, I might imagine soft footsteps. Then I see a slight change in the pattern of the band of light. The shadow of her feet separating it into three parts of equal length. Another movement, and the part in the middle is shorter. Call it wishful thinking but it sure looks like she just said 'o-kay' in Morse code.

And the door opens. I see the surprise in her face make room for a smile. And the night's stars still twinkling softly in her eyes. It was worth it. "Happy birthday." I say, not particularly original, I know. I say it in Greek too and her smile deepens, bordering on a grin, guess I have to work on my pronunciation. I hold out the basket I'm carrying. "I thought I'd bring you breakfast." Obviously. Oh well, but this isn't about eloquence.

Though her smile is eloquent. And her hand on my arm as she bends over the basket, casting a quick look inside before I feel her warm lips on my cheek, her murmured 'thank you' in my ears. She pulls away, "I hope you brought enough for two." I can only nod as she pulls me inside.

Thanks for reading. I hope you liked it. Please leave a review if you did, and if you didn't, let me know what I could do better. All comments are appreciated any time, and all logged reviews replied to.