Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my inspiration.
AN: I know that NYC doesn't allow smoking in public places, however, I chose to ignore that. This is not the story I intended to tell when I started it. Originally it was about 76 words long and there was somewhat of a song inspiration. Then my beta got a hold of it. Lol. So just ignore reality, a little, for me. Thanks.
AN2: I blame Lisa for the first third, and CL for the rest. So if it sucks, feel free to blame them as well ;D lol.

He found her at the bar with a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other. She didn't say anything when he took the stool beside her. He ordered a drink and waited.

She took a puff of the cigarette. "You know, I haven't had one of these since high school." She took another puff and coughed. "I'm starting to remember why."

"Stella..."

"Mac.." She turned and looked at him through watery eyes.

"C'mon, let me take you home."

"And where exactly would that be?" She asked pointedly. "Last time I checked, my apartment had been burned to a crisp, and I had no family, no boyfriend."

"You've got me."

She looked at him as if calling his bluff, and sipped on her drink. Shaking her head, she put out the cigarette.

"What?" he asked slowly.

"It's too hard to share someone with a ghost. I'm tired, Mac. I'm tired of always coming in second. For once, just once in my life I'd like to be put first. I don't have you. I've never had you. You're holding on to Claire's ghost too tightly to hold on to anything else."

"And what if I weren't?"

She shook her head again, and asked for her tab. "Too many if's in that sentence."

"Actually, there's just one."

"One too many, too late."

"You don't believe that," Mac said firmly.

"Oh really, I don't?"

"No, because if you did, Stella, we wouldn't be here in this bar having this conversation. This isn't you. You don't just come out to drink any given night of the week. You're here because you're hurt. If you're hurt you still care, and if you care," he paused searching her eyes until he found the woman he knew under the alcohol and the pain. "If you still care, maybe I'm not too late to…" he trailed off, almost like he was losing confidence, but he still held her gaze, confident as always.

"To what?" Stella asked.

Bringing a hand to her cheek, he leaned in and kissed her. After a moment, she kissed him back, and he could taste her strawberry chapstick mingled with the alcohol on her breath.

The kiss went one for what felt like hours as they spilled years' worth of emotion into each other. When they broke for air, he grinned.

"That's why I came looking for you tonight, Stel. You don't come in second to me.

It's taken me a long time to let go of Claire, and she'll always have part of my heart; I can't change that. But I have let go of her, I'm not sure when it started. I just know that somewhere along the way I learned how to move forward again. Tonight, I was cleaning up my desk, and I found a note." He paused, watching Stella's face as the realization of what he was talking about dawned on her. "The note you gave me on the first anniversary of Claire's death. You wrote, 'I'm still here. If you need me, all you have to do is ask.'

Here I am Stella, and I'm still here too – that's what really hit me tonight. I'm still here, too, and I need you more than you'll ever know."

Mac watched Stella wipe the tears off her cheeks, before she tried to reply.

"Damn Mac, a simple 'I love you' would have worked."

He laughed, "Well, I've never liked doing things the easy way, have I?"

She smiled at him. "What do you say we get out of here?"

Mac led her to the door. "Sounds like a plan to me."

fin.