The End.

A/N – It's one of the sunniest days England has had in ages. So, naturally, I decide to stay in and type this out. Makes perfect sense : ) So, anyway, this is just a random piece of virtually plot-less Smacked angst which I wrote at around 3am. Please be friendly and leave a review : )

Rated a strong T for language. Direct character thoughts are in italics.

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Mac Taylor was sat in his office, staring out of the window with a troubled expression on his face. He wished he didn't have to do this to her, but the way he saw it, there wasn't any other choice. They had both been drunk when it had happened the first time – it wasn't a decision they would never have made in their right minds. And maybe it had been good. Maybe they weren't even that drunk the second time, hadn't even had a glass the third… Maybe he even enjoyed it more than he regretted it. But it had to stop. All the nights they had been together, all it had been was sex, no emotions, virtually no thought whatsoever. Much as he hated to admit it, it had just been a way of relieving tension after a tough day at work. Stress relief. There was no way he was going to carry on using her like this. He couldn't. Mac sighed. If it had happened under different circumstances, maybe when they weren't drunk out of their minds, then maybe they would have carried on with it. Maybe there would even have been a chance that they would have gone somewhere. But 'maybe' was no use now. It had happened the way it had, and now there were consequences to face.

It did have to stop; there was no denying that. Mac just didn't want to be the one to finish things.

Stella stopped by the locker room on the way to Mac's office. As she pulled on her jacket, she smiled secretly to herself behind the privacy of her locker door. She wondered if they would do it again that night. True, they had no plans to see each other, but what they had was very much…impromptu. Stella smiled slyly as she thought back to the night she'd opened her door to find him standing there. That had been the second time. The first time had been the result of many, many Martinis, and a surprising amount of raw uncontrollable…lust. There really was no other word for it, thought Stella. What else do you call it when you can't even wait to get into the apartment, and have half your clothes off by the time you get out of the elevator? She grinned guiltily. Theoretically, I should have arrested both of us for indecent exposure. Stella blushed at the memory. Well, I guess that's what ten years of trying to hide it does for you. And we were very drunk.

Lying in bed the morning after, she had wondered what was going to happen, worried over whether it would affect their friendship and even their work. But sometime after that third night, she had decided to take the risk and put all her trust in him. After all, out of all the men she knew, Mac was the most trustworthy, the one she felt safest with. And as long as that was true, she was happy just to go with the flow. Stella hummed happily to herself as she closed her locker door and headed for Mac's office.

Mac was sat in the exact same position he had been five minutes before, drumming his fingers on the desk as he stared pensively out of the window. He was still agonising over his decision to break things off. He hated seeing her get hurt, especially when it was his fault, but if they carried on like this, she would get hurt anyway. It really was the only thing to do. Mac shook his head sadly. I just wish it wasn't. Moments later, the object of his thoughts walked in through the office door. He looked up at her with a painful mix of relief and dismay. He was dreading doing this, but he supposed it was better over and done with. Then again, it would have been even better if it didn't need to be done at all. Mac forced himself to look up at her as she walked towards him.

"Hey Mac," said Stella with a quick smile. "I'm off home. See you tonight?" She lowered her voice slightly for the last part, even though it could have been just an innocent question between co-workers. The lab techs had been known to take a piece of gossip and run with it – and this time, their rumours would have been correct.

Mac swallowed nervously. "Look, Stella," he began. "We need to talk." He saw her smile falter, and knew this would be one of the hardest things he'd ever do.

"We need to talk?" Stella echoed. She could hear the disbelief in her voice and made no attempt to hide it. Mac wouldn't… He can't be…

"Stella," continued Mac, hating himself for what he was about to say. "This thing we're doing…" He paused. Stella balled her hands into fists, her nails digging into the palms of her hands. Please don't say it, she willed him. Please don't say it, please don't say it…

"…It has to stop," finished Mac. " I realised after that first night that it was a bad decision, that we'd made a mistake…" It wasn't supposed to sound like this. Mac had planned what he had to say, but everything was coming out wrong. Anything he said now would just make things worse than they already were. Mac waited nervously, bracing himself for Stella's reaction.

For a second, Stella stood there, staring at him. She was painfully surprised, even shocked. She couldn't believe she was actually hearing this from Mac Taylor, the one man she had thought would never do this. Her incredulity lasted for only a moment before she completely lost it.

"You son of a BITCH!" she screamed. She could tell by the gasps of surprise that everyone in the lab had turned to stare, but she couldn't care less. "We had sex for three nights Mac, three nights and you're telling me it was a bad decision? That we were doing it for all the wrong reasons? Well, you might have been doing this for all the wrong reasons, but I sure as hell wasn't!" Stella felt tears come to her eyes, and hated herself for being weak enough to cry in front of him.

"Stell…" tried Mac.

"Shut the hell up Mac," hissed Stella vehemently. "What I want to know is why you didn't tell me you thought it was all a mistake the first night it happened. Why'd you give it two more nights, Mac? Two more fucking nights!" Mac tried to say something, but Stella cut him off.

"I don't want to hear your excuses," she said, her voice sharp with pain and anger. "Because guess what's happened now? I bet you've got no idea, have you?" The confusion on his face brought fresh anger to the surface. "I've fucking well fallen in love with you, Mac Taylor! How do your excuses figure out now?" Stella turned and stormed away.

When she reached the door she looked back at Mac, the tears coming thick and fast. "You know what?" she said, her voice shaking with emotion. "The morning after I slept with you, I was happy, really fucking happy. Because I was with Mac Taylor, and Mac Taylor would never hurt me." She paused, looking at him through the tears pouring down her cheeks. All her anger had vanished as quickly as it had come, replaced by a terrible, aching sadness. "It turns out I was wrong."

And with that, she turned and walked away. Mac could hear her sobbing as she walked down the corridor toward the exit. He watched until she turned the corner, knowing it would be useless to follow her. As her curly hair whisked out of sight, Mac leant his head in his hands and let the tears fall. They were through.

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A/N – So, what do you think? Review even if you think its crap : )