So here it is, my first story. I hope everyone will enjoy it. I'm a little nervous about the idea so hopefully it works out. And thank you in advance to anyone who takes a read!

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Jerry Bruckheimer and the CBS company, not little ole' me.

A Cycle of Seasons

Chapter One: Winter


She watched from her office window as winter made itself known.

The same view usually offered her a variety of colors: the golden yellow of the taxi cabs, the forest green of the trees, and the neon shades of the numerous billboards that graced the city skyscrapers. On that particular day however, none of them were in sight, but instead her olive eyes scanned over a city covered in white.

When she had gone to bed the night before, the news reports had warned New Yorkers of a winter storm heading in their direction. Stella however had come to lightly trust the warnings of the TV meteorologists and hadn't expected much to happen.

Yet when she awoke the next morning, she was greeted to a winter wonderland outside of her bedroom window, creating an even brighter morning glow throughout her apartment. The sight had left her with a smile on her face, one that she carried all the way to work and remained on her face as she stared out of her office window.

That same smile caught the attention of a particular passerby.

"I see someone's having a good morning."

Unaware of his presence, Stella jumped slightly, her head whipping around. "Mac," she breathed out, resting her hand over her heart.

Mac smiled as he came to stand next to her, watching her closely with his soft blue eyes. "You okay? You normally don't scare that easily."

Stella couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped her lips. "I guess I was just in my own little world for a minute there," she offered, turning back to the window. "It's beautiful isn't it?"

Mac followed her gaze to the view of the city. He shrugged, putting his hands in his pocket. "I guess you could say that."

"Winter is my favorite season you know."

Mac glanced at her. "I know."

This time, it was Stella's turn to look in his direction. "You do?"

Mac nodded. "You told me. Something about growing up and how you use to love to play in the snow."

Stella laughed, the memory of her telling him coming back to her. "Yeah, that's it." She paused, her eyes going back to the snow. "I guess it was the one thing that didn't just happen to kids with families. Everyone got to enjoy it," she paused, smiling to herself at one of the few positive moments of her childhood. "I remember I used to love building snowmen."

"Were they any good?" Mac questioned with a teasing glint in his eyes.

Stella snorted at his question. "Were they any good? Mac, I was the snowman building queen, okay."

Mac chuckled. "I'll take your word for it."

"What about you?" she asked.

"Well I wasn't the snowman queen, if that's what you mean," he responded dryly, the signature of Mac's humor.

"I meant did you like the snow when you were younger?"

Mac shook his head. "Not really. I hate getting my feet wet."

Stella laughed at loud, shaking her head as Mac watched her with a growing smile. "Come on Mac, you lived in Chicago. You had to at least like playing in the snow a little bit."

Mac shrugged his shoulders. "I was known to throw a mean curveball when it came to snowball fights."

Stella opened her mouth to say something but the ringing of a phone interrupted. "That's yours," she pointed out to him with a smirk.

He reached into his pocket and answered the phone, bringing the shrilling ring to an end. "Taylor."

Stella turned her attention back to the window while Mac answered his call. Her eyes followed the few flakes of snow that still fell from the sky. Though she was inside, it was almost like she could feel the chill of the snow, sending a small shiver up her spine.

"That was Flack," Mac said, bringing her back to reality. "A body was found in an abandon house down on 45th."

Stella let out a breath, turning completely to face Mac. "I'll drive."


The drive was a long one, thanks in part to the streets that still held layers of snow. Luckily Stella's skillful driving awarded them in a safe arrival.

As pulled up in what they could only assume use to be a driveway, they couldn't help but take Flack's description to heart. The building was old, with a brick exterior that was littered with paint chippings. The windows no longer held glass but instead wooden boards, most of which were covered with graffiti.

Stella stared up at the house as she exited the car. "Pretty."

Mac kept his eyes focused as he led the way into the front door, nodding at the uniformed officer standing there. Once he entered, the chill of the outside didn't go away, leaving him to understand that the boarded windows did little to keep the heat in.

His eyes caught glance of the body laying off to the right. Stella followed his lead as they moved closer.

Once they reached it, Mac grimaced, noticing the multiple bullets wounds on the chest of the victim. The blonde man had a young, clean cut face. His body was lean, as if he was still a teenager.

"He can't be over 21," Stella commented as she sat her kit down and began using the camera that hung around her neck.

"I'm guessing he comes from some type of money. His jeans looked pressed and his shoes are new," Mac commented.

"So what's he doing here?" she inquired.

"Enjoying a snow day," Flack said, coming up from behind. "Kid's name is Kevin Crane. Found his permit in his wallet. He's 17."

"Who discovered the body?" Mac and Stella both spoke at the same time.

A small smirk appeared on Flack's face as his electric blue eyes darted between his two companions. "Not the first time we've had this conversation."

Stella shook her head with a smile while Mac held Flack's gaze. "The body?"

"Some guy named Mike Williamson. He's a freelance photographer. He said he was here to take pictures and then he found this."

"Do we know…" a loud thump from above their heads caused Stella to stop mid sentence.

All three heads shot up in curiosity. Flack was the first to look away has he glanced in the direction of the front door. "Hey Michaels, you clear the upstairs?" he called out to the uniform.

The young red headed cop poked his head in. "Yeah, I did."

"By yourself?" Flack prodded.

"Yes sir."

Flack glanced at Mac and Stella who were both watching him. "He's new," he offered as he reached for the gun on his holster.

Mac and Stella quickly did the same as they followed Flack back past the front door and into the other side of the building.

There was a staircase against the far wall, leading to the upstairs. Flack glanced back to make sure they were close behind before slowly making his way up, step by step.

When he reached the top, he quickly pointed his gun in all directions, his trained eyes scanning over every door. He headed left, looking back at Mac and Stella, motioning for them to move in the other direction.

Nodding in comprehension, Mac moved to the right while Stella moved to the door directly in front of the steps.

She reached for the knob, pausing only slightly for a moment before turning it and pushing the door open, quickly pointing her gun in every direction. When she realized the room was empty, she backed out.

Doing the same from the room next to her garnered the same result. After leaving that room she saw Flack coming up to her.

"I got nothing," he said.

"Me either," she answered before her head whipped towards the direction Mac walked.

With Flack behind her, they walked swiftly down the long hallway, leading to a door on the end.

That was when all hell broke loose.

"He's in here," Mac shouted, prompting Stella and Flack to run the rest of the way. Before they were able to reach the door, they heard it.

The shot.

Stella felt her heart leave her chest as she reached the door. Her eyes scanned the room, hoping to see Mac standing with his gun in his hand.

Instead she was greeted to a sight she would never soon forget. Mac was lying on the floor, his chest moving rapidly up and down. Blood slowly pooled from a would that wasn't visible from their view.

"Mac!" she screamed as she dropped her own gun and ran towards him, leaning over him, her eyes searching his for any sign of life. His eyes were open but she could see the life leaving them. "Mac." Her hand lightly tapped his face, hoping to keep him focused on her. "I'm here Mac," she said, her own tears dropping onto his skin.

As her attention stayed on Mac, she didn't hear Flack fire his gun, killing the man who was attempting to climb from the window. Nor did she hear him yelling into his radio for EMS.

For his part, Flack was doing his best to hold it together. However, once his eyes found the wound on the side of Mac's head, he quickly found himself panicking. He moved close to Stella, who was doing her best to keep Mac awake. His hand ran through her hair as Mac's gaze drifted from Stella's.

"Mac, I need you to stay with me, okay. Please," she pleaded with her voice cracking. "Please Mac."


Yes? No? Please let me know what you think!