A/N: I don't own them or make money off of them. I'm just borrowing them, I promise to put them back. Thanks to Lisa for the help.
Stella slid into the booth across from her partner in the small diner. "I thought we'd never be done with that case, with all the evidence we had to process. Worked out to be in our favor though. The girl's ex-boyfriend from five years ago ended up being the killer. Seemed he had never been able to move on after she dumped him."
Mac could see that the brutality of today's murder had left Stella shaken. Even now, years after she was attacked by Frankie, Mac could still see brief moments when a case involving a vengeful partner would leave her shaken. He set down his soup spoon and reached across the table to where her hand was drumming out a staccato beat on the table's surface, linking their hands together. He ran his thumb across the back of her knuckles, the familiar feeling helping to calm her.
"I have an idea, why don't we get you some food, then we'll head home and we can spend the rest of the night curled up on the couch while I tell you more embarrassing stories about me growing up. Sound good?"
Stella smiled at Mac, squeezing his fingers. "Any chance we can skip the food and just head home now?"
"Stell, I know you and I know you haven't eaten all day. At least get a bowl of soup, then we'll head home. It's alphabet soup, your favorite. I know how you love to make up words with the noodles."
She rolled her eyes but acquiesced. Mac signaled to the waitress for another soup. They sat in a comfortable silence for a moment until it was broken by the sound of Stella chuckling.
"What's so funny?
"I was just thinking about the way Brian, our vic' died today; base jumping with a parachute that read 'Marry Me Melissa' on the underside of it."
Mac looked at Stella, confusion on his face. "I don't get it. He died after Mark the ex-boyfriend sabotaged the parachute. What's funny?"
"Nothing really, it's just, who needs a marriage proposal to be that flashy? I mean what's wrong with just taking the girl to dinner and proposing there? If you're really in love, why dress it up?"
"So sports scoreboards and writing in the sky proposals not your cup of tea?"
"Not really," Stella replied as the waitress set her bowl of soup down. "I like things pretty simple when it comes to that. Well add one of those little blue boxes and I'm definitely set!" She pulled her gaze away from Mac's and gasped as she looked down at her soup. The letters in the soup had been neatly arranged to read three words. 'Marry Me Stella.'
She looked up at Mac, her eyes wide. "Mac?"
"So about those blue boxes…"