A/N: This takes place in early season 4, and only specifically mentions "Can You Hear Me Now". No spoilers. Enjoy. Also, I don't own them, I'm just playing.
It's been a very long week, Mac Taylor thought, scrubbing his hands over his face as he watched Don lead the man away. They'd just made an arrest on a case that had gotten to them all: a woman and her two children slain, the father at fault. He hadn't wanted to pay alimony, he whined as Don was cuffing him. They all needed a break, as they'd been working this case nonstop for 3 days, catching naps as they waited for results.
Hunting down his team, he thanked them for their hard work and told them to take the next two days off, purposely saving Stella for last. The case had affected her significantly, and she had seemed especially tense. He was hoping that she'd want to wind down with him for a while, maybe catch a drink or grab a bite, as that would also allow him to make sure she was alright.
Spying her in her office, he tapped lightly on the door. She finished the sentence she was writing before glancing up.
"Hey, Mac. What's up?" She smiled, but Mac noticed that it was strained and didn't reach her eyes.
"We got him, Stel. He made a full confession," he answered, knowing that was the information she wanted most.
Her smile bloomed for a moment. "That's great, Mac. I'm glad to know that scumbag is off the streets and into a cell for the rest of his miserable life." He blinked, slightly startled at the venom in her voice.
"Yeah, me too. Hey, two more things." She cocked an eyebrow, and he went on. "First, go home, and take the next two days off. We all need the break. I'm about to head out as well, just gotta sign off on the case report." She sighed and nodded.
"Me too. What's the second thing?" Stella asked, scrawling her signature and closing the file before standing and stretching.
"Well, since we're both on our way out, and it's not too late, I was wondering if you wanted to go grab a drink or a bite, something like that."
She hesitated, glancing at her watch before shaking her head as she moved around to grab her bag and grab her jacket. "Thanks, Mac, but I can't. I have… somewhere I need to be tonight."
Mac's eyebrows rose. "Oh?" Stella just smiled the same strained smile, and nodded again. Moving towards him, she flicked the light switch, and then slid past him. "I'll call you tomorrow, ok?"
Bewildered, Mac watched Stella stride down the hallway towards the elevators, tension in every line in her body. He couldn't understand why she was being so evasive. Thinking back, he belatedly noticed a pattern. After the last several cases that had seemed to affect her the most, she had either disappeared, or had evasively declined his invitations, mouth pinched and shoulders tight with nerves.
Determined to make sure an evening with Jack Daniels was not her plan now that he'd noticed her habit, he moved quickly to his office and signed the file before gathering his own things and moving to the elevators.
Between the time it had taken him to get out of the office and traffic, it had taken him nearly an hour to reach Stella's. He managed to pull up to her apartment building just in time to see her curls moving through the throng of people down the sidewalk. Going in her direction, Mac drove until he spied a parking spot. Pulling into it, Mac swiftly got out and followed her into the unseasonably warm evening, curious to see where she was going. When he got close enough to see more then her curls, he stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk, causing the man walking behind him to crash into his back and swear. Apologizing absently, Mac managed to make his legs move again.
She was wearing some sort of dress, that much he could tell. It must have tied behind her neck, because he could see no straps on her arms, and it left most of her back bare, sliding into a full, flouncing red skirt that swirled and bounced around her knees with her steps. Her feet were encased in impossibly high needle thin heels with straps that criss-crossed around her ankle to tie midway up her long, slim calf. It must be some date she's going on for her to dress up that much, Mac thought, continuing to follow at a safe distance.
Surprised to find himself slightly jealous, he promised himself he just wanted to make sure she was going to be ok, and then he'd leave. He followed her for several blocks, until she stopped in front of a heavy wooden door in a nondescript building. Smoothing her skirt and shaking her hair back over her shoulders, she walked in.
Waiting a few minutes, Mac studied the building. There were two windows, but neither were much help in deciphering what was on the other side; both were grimy and covered in posters. The neon sign above the door proclaimed the place "Janie's" in a flowing script. Mac decided that enough time had passed and, cautiously opening the door, slipped inside.
His first surprise of the evening was the inside of the room. It was long and narrow, with a bar and stools at the end closest to the door and a brightly lit, slightly raised wood floor at the far end that was surrounded on three sides with seats, paired off with low tables between. The fourth side was edged by a heavy curtain. Many of the tables were taken, and the soft music playing on the speakers was nearly drowned out by the general dull roar of multiple conversations. Some sort of dinner-theater place? Mac mused, loosening his tie and stepping up to an empty space at the bar, waiting for one of the waitresses working to notice him.
One of them did, a tall willow-slim brunette. Wiping her hands on a towel, she stepped over, fishing her notepad and pen out of her apron. Smiling, she greeted him.
"Hi, how are you tonight?"
Mac smiled slightly in return. "Fine, thanks. You?"
"Oh, I'm fine. Have you been with us before?" Mac shook his head, and the woman's smile turned into a grin. "Ohh, a first timer! You picked a good night. One of our best has come in tonight. I'm Jane," she said, offering a hand.
Mac raised an eyebrow. "As in Janie's?" he asked, accepting the hand. The woman smiled again and gave a sharp nod. "Yep. This is my place." Mac introduced himself before asking the question that was on his mind. "What's the floor for?"
Jane just grinned. "Oh, you'll see in…about 15 minutes, give or take. Would you like something while you wait?"
Mac ordered a beer and a burger and was given a number. "Go pick a table, and someone'll bring your food out to you when it's ready. Try to get one close up – tonight'll be good."
Cautiously, Mac surveyed the crowd, unable to spot Stella's trademark curls. Figuring she must be in the ladies room since he was certain he'd seen her come in, he picked a table off to one side, still in enough shadow that he was sure he couldn't be recognized when she reappeared.
He amused himself while he waited for the burger to arrive by observing the people around him and listening to either random snippets of conversation or the soft music playing overhead. It had a low rhythm that Mac was unfamiliar with, but one he found he liked as his toe began tapping to the beat.
He was enjoying his second bite of what was turning out to be an incredible burger when suddenly the house lights and the spotlights lighting the floor went black. Swallowing as he waited for his eyes to adjust, he noticed that the crowd was silent as well, only occasional rustling heard through the gloom.
His eyes had just adjusted enough that he could barely make out a figure in one corner of the dark floor before the music started again. It wasn't anything he was familiar with, just a slow rhythmic drumming that built in intensity and tempo as the seconds passed. The figure on the floor was still, profile to him, head back, one arm on her hip grasping a handful of full skirt, the other behind her head, one leg out, toe pointed. The tension in that long slim line was as palpable as the crowd's anticipation of what was to come. As the intensity of the drums built, the figure slowly began to move, arms slowly rising above her head, wrists crossed, hands gracefully twirling as she held that pose for a moment as the drumming increased steadily.
When the guitar joined the drums, her whole body came to life, hips swirling, upper body undulating, feet flying in a series of complicated steps. The skirt enhanced the movements, floating and dipping and swirling around the dancing woman. The first time Mac managed a look at her face, he choked. That was Stella! Stella, his Stella, was up there moving in a way that was completely alien to him, although to her, it seemed second nature. How had she hidden this? How had he not known she could do this? He'd known she'd had some dancing abilities, of course, from the impromptu dance lesson she'd given him and Flack in the lab during a case once, but he'd had no idea she could move like…well, like that!
Mac absently reached for his napkin, all thoughts of his burger banished as images of her burned themselves into his mind, and all he could do was watch. He'd never seen her face look like that, he realized. Her cheeks were flushed and there was fire in her eyes as she moved, spinning and dancing. But underneath the fire, Mac noticed as he continued to stare, was concentration, and focus as she moved through her steps.
To Mac's bewildered mind, the dance seemed to go on forever, although he was forced to admit that it had likely only been 3 or 4 minutes. Stella's body never stopped moving, flowing, flying over the floor. When the music finally began to reach its crescendo, she began a series of spins that took her from one corner of the floor to the other, and took Mac's already shortened breath away. Reaching the far corner as the music reached its end, she flung herself out of the spins and into a pose very like how she'd started: head thrown back, one hand at her waist, the other thrown above her head. As the music faded into silence, the audience sat stunned for a moment before launching into thunderous applause. Stella continued to hold the pose for a moment before gracefully lowering her hand and standing straight. Her chest was heaving from the effort, there was a sheen of sweat on her brow, her eyes were twinkling, and Mac thought he'd never seen her look so beautiful. He was even more amazed to see a man join her, and watched the pair move into position for another dance. He watched as the duo performed a tango, a waltz and to end the evening, a samba. As she took a deep breath and swept into a bow, Mac thought he caught a glimpse of contentment mixed with relief sweep across her face.
Mac sank back down into his chair as Stella moved out of sight, thoughts in turmoil. Questions had begun to weave their way through the chaos when he was startled by a voice beside him.
"So what'd you think?" asked Jane as she sank down into a chair next to Mac. He could only stare at her for a moment as he attempted to collect his thoughts.
"That was…. unbelievable," he finally managed, and Jane laughed.
"Yeah, she's pretty spectacular, isn't she?"
Mac nodded, and gave voice to one of the many questions swirling in his thoughts. "Is she here often?"
Regretfully, Jane shook her head. "Sadly no, though I wish I could pin her down to a more regular schedule. She's good for business!"
Mac nodded, realizing even if Jane didn't, why Stella couldn't really commit to a regular schedule. He usually tried to keep his Wednesday night events if at all possible, but he frequently had to miss them. He watched as some of the dining couples began to drift out onto the floor to dance to the music that had softly started playing.
"Has she been coming here long?" he asked casually, and Jane, looking over his shoulder, smiled.
"Why not ask her yourself? She's usually willing to chat with customers after a performance." Before Mac could protest, Jane had stood and was waving Stella over.
As she arrived at their table, Jane gave her a quick, hard hug. "That was great! You had some fire out there tonight." Stella smiled and thanked her, and Jane kept going. "This is Mac, and tonight was his first time here. I think you've turned him into a repeat customer!"
At the name, Stella stilled and turned, taking a look at the man she'd only vaguely noticed Jane talking to. Smiling ruefully, she could only shake her head as she sighed. "Mac."
Blushing slightly, Mac game her a small smile. "You were fantastic, Stella. I had no idea."
Glancing back and forth between them, Jane raised an eyebrow. "You two know each other?" Smiling, Stella shrugged. "Jane, meet my boss, Detective Mac Taylor. Mac, this is Jane Evans. Jane owns this place, Mac."
Jane laughed. "Yeah, we've met, though not so formally. I'll leave you to talk. Again, great job tonight, Stella. Nice meeting you, Mac."
Alone, Mac and Stella stared at each other. After a long moment, Stella sighed and sat. "I'm surprised it took you this long." Mac blinked, not understanding her meaning, and she laughed. "I knew you'd find out eventually, Mac. You are you, after all. I'm just surprised it took you this long."
"How long have you been coming here?" he questioned.
"On and off since I discovered it, about 18 months ago. It was recommended to me."
Mac was startled. He hadn't noticed that the pattern went that far back. Noticing, Stella couldn't help smiling a little. "How about some dinner? I know I'm ravenous." Mac glanced at his nearly untouched and now cold burger, and grimaced.
"Absolutely. Where did you have in mind?" he asked.
Stella shrugged. "Want to walk, and see what we find?"
"Sounds good to me. You sure you don't want to change first though?"
Stella smiled. "Nah, I'm fine."
Nodding, Mac gathered his things, and together they walked to the door, raising a hand to Jane on the way. She waved back, busy with another customer, and the pair walked out onto the busy street, lit by streetlights.
Turning to his companion, Mac asked, "Well? Any ideas? I'm not very familiar with this area of town."
Considering, Stella looked around. "This way," she said, pointing to her right. "There's a couple good restaurants down here."
They began to walk quietly, enjoying each other's company but lost in their own thoughts. Passing a deli, Stella eyed the shops further down – and smiled.
"In the mood for Greek?" She said, eyes sparkling, and pointed. Mac looked in the direction she was pointing, and with a smile of his own, nodded.
The place Stella had indicated was little more than a hole in the wall, but the smells emanating from the place were mouth watering, and Stella knew from experience that the food was amazing.
It was late, about an hour from closing, and the place was nearly empty. An accented voice from the kitchen called a greeting and for them to seat themselves, that someone would be with them in a moment. They did, and after a moment that Mac used to study the place, the kitchen door flew open, more delicious smells billowing out with a small, dark man. He came, took their order and disappeared again.
Mac cleared his throat, and Stella looked at him, smiling. "I imagine you have questions. Ask them."
Considering, Mac hesitated. Where to start ? "Dancing?"
She nodded. "Some of the cases get to me, get to all of us. Working out helps, but sometimes I just needed... I don't know, more. For the longest time, I couldn't figure out what that more was. Then, one of the techs mentioned Janie's. Apparently she'd been taken on a date there, and had enjoyed immensely. When I asked what kind of place it was, she pulled out a flier. Jane offers an informal dance class once a week, and on a whim, I went."
Stella paused to inhale appreciatively as their food was delivered. Swallowing her first bite, she continued.
"I enjoyed the class so much that I continued to go, on other nights too, and eventually I got to know Jane and several of the regulars. We got together one night, went to a club. They watched me dance, and they pointed out that I had an audience. They told Jane about it, and she asked me to do basically what you just saw one night, as part of an exhibition the teachers were putting on."
"So do you teach the classes?" Mac asked as she paused for food. Stella shook her head.
"The show was for charity, and I had the night off, so I took the gamble that we wouldn't get called in, and agreed. We did get called in, but much later, so I was fine. After that... well, after the Nova Kent case, I went to join the crew at Jane's, and I was on the floor when I just... let loose. They made room, Jane talked to me afterwards, we reached an agreement... and there you are."
Mac nodded. "How long had you been coming when you made your agreement?"
Stella paused, thinking. "Nearly a year, I think."
"And how does your agreement work? Do you just show up?"
Stella shook her head. "No, I call. Usually I can tell when we get to the initial crime scene if I'll need that release. I call her, let her know that it'll be soon. I don't have to give her a lot of time – they're pretty informal, if you couldn't tell, but she likes to be able to publicize them. It seems I'm fairly popular," Stella said with a faintly surprised look on her face, and made him laugh.
They finished the remainders of their meals, paid, and made their way out of the restaurant. They decided to take advantage of the Indian summer evening, and walk back to Stella's apartment. The easy conversation eventually lapsed into silence as they walked, and after several blocks, Stella heaved a sigh tried to answer the question that Mac hadn't asked.
"I'm not sure why I didn't tell you, Mac. It's not like I wanted it to be a secret, or that I didn't want you to know. But... it's harder, somehow, letting go the way I need to knowing that someone I know will be there. It was easier, for now, to just keep it to myself." She looked at him, smiling wryly. "Guess maybe it didn't matter. Didn't keep me from getting what I needed to tonight."
"True, but you didn't know I was there," Mac reminded her.
Stella laughed. "True, but now that you've seen me, I'm guessing it won't matter."
"Stella... What exactly do you get out of doing that? I can certainly understand the need for physical exertion, to work out energy, but you said you needed something more. Did you ever figure out what it was?"
She took her time answering, trying to put into words what exactly she'd found.
"The dancing... it's different then running, or hitting a punching bag. There's a personal element that requires me to put myself out there, in a way that forces me to put my emotions to use, rather than just get them out. There's a catharsis that happens, and when the dance is over, the worst of the anger, the sadness, and, depending on the case, the guilt, is not only out, it's expended and has been made productive. It... Somehow it takes a lot of the pain away from the memories." She stopped, mildly frustrated. "Does that make sense? I'm not sure I can explain it better..."
Mac shook his head. "No need, Stel. It makes perfect sense. Can I ask you one last question?"
Stella immediately nodded. "Of course. What's that?"
"Could I come watch again? Or maybe..." and here he hesitated, shaking his head before he finally went on. "Maybe we could go to one of those informal classes Jane has? Or maybe we could even take formal dance classes together somewhere?"
She looked up, surprised. "I didn't know you were interested in dancing, Mac. Have you ever taken a dance class?"
"No. And it wasn't so much that I wasn't interested as that the thought hadn't ever crossed my mind."
Stella considered what she knew of the man, and the events of the evening, and looking up at him, grinned. "Let's start with Jane's class, just to make sure you like it before we decide anything formal, hmm?"
Grinning, Mac agreed.
So I've actually had this sitting around for quite a while, and I wasn't ever really all that happy with it. Taking a page out of a friend's book, I decided that I was probably not ever going to be totally happy with it, and so decided to publish it. I hope you'll let me know what you think!