A/N: I don't own them or make money off them, promise! Don't own the song at the end, Huey Lewis does. Oh, and I don't speak Italian or Greek, so all errors in grammar or usage of phrases in these languages I'll blame on what I found online…

Stella Bonasera was usually not one to wallow, especially if it was because of a guy. She had too much self-respect for herself to do something like drown her sorrows, but yet, here she was. Normally if she wanted a drink after work she would grab Lindsay or one of the others and head to Sullivan's. It was always loud and filled with off-duty cops and firefighters and anyone else needing to wind down after a hard day. But today was one of those days she just wanted to be alone with her drinks and her thoughts. It was a small, quiet bar just a block from Stella's apartment, allowing her to not have to worry about driving home or catching a cab.

The bar was nearly empty but for a couple quietly talking in the back. Mike the bartender watched Stella as she stared into her glass. As much as he enjoyed seeing her, he always hated when she came in, knowing the reason behind the visit was usually not pleasant. He remembered the first time she came in, she had just moved into the neighborhood. She and this other detective had come in, Mac something. From what Mike had overheard and later was told by her, she had been attacked in her apartment by an old boyfriend. The other detective sat with her while she spoke, his hand intertwined with hers. Mike had seen the look on the other man's face; the way the man's eyes darted around the room, looking for anything that might try to harm her. Since then, she'd been in a few times with another female detective, Lucy or Lindsay or something. But mostly she'd come in alone, seeking refuge and solace when the world got to be too much for her.

Mike watched as she lifted her eyes from the drink, finally looking around the room. He saw the hint of hope in her eyes as the front door swung open, just to see it replaced with disappointment as Charlie, a regular walked in, taking a seat in a corner booth. Finally Stella's eyes locked with Mike's and he offered her a warm smile as he walked over to her.

"Rough day?"

Stella nodded, "Rough week's more like it."

Mike said nothing else, just nodding in sympathy. He motioned to her now empty glass, "Refill?"

Stella nodded again, "Make it a double."

"You got it." Mike moved to pour the Irish Whiskey into the glass. He placed his hand over hers' as she tried to pay him for the drink, shaking his head. "On the house."

Stella looked at him skeptically, distrust evident in her eyes.

"You bust your ass out there to keep us all safe, least I can do. Plus you looked like you needed it."

Stella was about to say something when her phone rang. She answered it without looking at the caller id. "Bonasera, oh hey Lindsay. Yeah…yeah I heard. No, haven't talked to him since this morning. He was out with Danny all day working a double homicide at the Waldorf…No I haven't tried calling him, I just needed some time to clear my head. Yeah, I'm over at O'Malley's. No, I'm good, I swear. No, you don't need to come across town, the traffic is terrible and it's your day off. We'll grab lunch or something tomorrow. Alright? Have a good night kiddo. And Lindsay? Thanks." Stella looked apologetically at Mike as she changed the phone to vibrate, setting it on the counter.

Mike filled her empty glass, "Let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks," Stella replied as she watched him walk over and sit down with the man sitting in the corner.

*********************************************************************

Mac rubbed his eyes with his hand; it had been a long day and a really long week. Five days ago he had been taken hostage, knocked out and almost killed before leading a manhunt all over New York City for a bank robber. Today's double homicide hadn't been easy; it had been a gruesome killing. Thankfully because of his and Danny's tenacity, the killer was behind bars. He looked at the computer screen again, reading the email from Peyton. She was coming to the States for a week, some conference or something. She wanted to meet up for dinner so they could "talk."

It wasn't that he didn't want to see her; he'd realized a while ago that they just weren't meant to be. The problem was her visit wasn't much of a secret around the lab; apparently she had emailed Hawkes too, saying she'd be in town for a week. Everyone had been giving him sympathetic looks all day, thinking it might be awkward for him, or hoping that the two might give the relationship another go. Mac appreciated that the techs in the lab cared but he was only really worried about the reaction of one person: Stella. She had been the one there for him, offering her support and silent strength after Peyton broke it off. Hawkes had said she was snappish all day, and in Stella talk that meant she was hurting and doing the only thing she could to try and vent that pain.

Mac sighed again as he looked at the stack of paperwork in front of him. Deciding it would still be there waiting for him in the morning, he got up and put on his coat. Right now he needed to talk to Stella, and he had a pretty good idea where to find her.

***********************************************************************

Stella stared at the empty glass, willing it to give her the answers to the universe. Unfortunately the only thing she would receive from it was a headache in the morning. She was definitely not sober anymore, though she was far from drunk. That had not been her goal tonight, only to try and numb some of the pain she was feeling. To try and forget for a moment why her heart was hurting. She looked down as her phone vibrated. It was the third time in the past ten minutes. Each time the caller ID was the same, Mac Taylor. She knew she should answer. She was in no way fit to go to a crime scene, but she still had a duty to inform him, he was still her boss. Stella figured that was the only reason he'd be calling her this late at night.

Mike walked up to the counter in front of her as she growled in frustration as the phone started vibrating for the fourth time. She picked up the phone and threw it in her purse. She'd deal with the consequences later.

"All finished?" Mike asked as he picked up the glass. Just then the door to the bar opened up, the chill from the wind outside making it's way inside. Mike nodded to the man as he walked in and sat down next to Stella. "What can I get for ya? Mac right?"

"You have a good memory."

"Yeah, it's a good thing workin here. Makes people feel more at home." Mike watched as Stella clutched the napkin in her hand, her knuckles white with controlling her emotions.

Mac nodded, "I'll just have a beer, thanks."

Mike nodded, quickly pulling one out of the fridge and setting it down in front of the man before heading to the far side of the bar, wanting to give the two detectives some space. If Stella's death grip on the napkin was anything to go by, there were some things she needed to get out of her system and it wasn't going to be pretty.

Mac sat and stared down at his drink, though he didn't see it. He was concentrating on observing the woman on the stool beside him. He knew her, knew something was wrong and he had an idea of what the cause may be. Despite what he led others to believe, Mac was not oblivious to the chemistry between him and Stella. He knew that some of the techs in the lab had coined them the "old married couple" on account for how in sync they always were with each other. He had also gotten a brief glimpse into the hurt he had caused her when she found out he was dating Peyton.

What he needed to do was to get her to talk to him. She had always said she felt better when she finally voiced what was bothering her, instead of holding it inside.

"So you wanna talk about what's bothering you? Was it something to do with the case today?"

Stella remained silent, her grip on the napkin increased.

"Ok, so maybe it's not something to do with the case. Is it something else then? Is everything ok with you?" He placed his hand on her arm, trying to give her some comfort. He was surprised when she quickly stood up, ripping her arm away from him, as if she'd been burnt.

"I…I just can't do this right now. I can't deal with you Mac. I don't know why you came here but it was a mistake." And with that she turned to Mike, her eyes meeting his in a moment of brief thanks and then she was out the door, Mac too stunned for a moment to chase after her. He stood there for a second; staring at the door she had rushed out of. It wasn't until he heard Mike talking that he turned back from the door.

"Go after her, she needs you and I think you need her too. Anyone can see that."

Nodding, Mac hurried out the door. He was afraid she would have already taken off but instead he found her outside pacing back and forth along the sidewalk, eyes on her feet, muttering to herself, switching between Greek, Italian and English

"Re to malaka! Idiot!"

"Stella?" Mac watched as she hastily wiped away a few stray tears that had escaped down her cheeks.

"Mac please, just go. Áse me ísiho."

"I can't just leave you alone Stella, we need to talk." He tried to stop the smirk that grew as he watched her surprised expression. "You were always spouting things off in Italian or Greek, figured I needed to learn a little bit too. Can't have you talking bad about the boss in front of him right?" He tried to joke to lighten the heavy mood in the air.

His joke fell flat though as he watched the expressions pass across her face, sadness, resignation and finally anger. She held on to the anger, it was easier to deal with. "Talk? There's nothing for us to talk about Mac. I can't do this anymore."

"You can't do what Stella?"

"I can't just sit back and watch as you choose someone else yet again. I don't know if you just don't see what's there or if it's not what you really want…I can't do it again Mac. I can't watch you choose someone else and then be the one to help you pick up the pieces later on. It's not fair to me Mac and it's not fair to you either. I love you Mac, you're my best friend, but I need to get over this. I need to find a way to get closure, and then I can deal with being just your friend."

"Stella, please…I don't…" She cut Mac off before he could finish.

"Please just go Mac, you don't want to keep Peyton waiting. Wasn't her flight supposed to land 15 minutes ago? You should be there for the happy reunion instead of here with me. Avere gli occhi foderati di prociutto."

"No, I think I'm right where I need to be. I have no intention of starting things back up with Peyton. I realized it never would have lasted, it just wasn't meant to be. And you're wrong. I do see what is in front of my eyes. I'm just sorry it took me so long to stop running, to stop being scared. I hurt you because of that and I'm sorry. You're my best friend Stell. I wasn't sure how to move past that."

"So because you're not sure what you really want you get to say sorry and I'm just supposed to forgive you and move on? Do you know how many nights spent lying awake wondering what I could do differently? How much time I spent comparing myself to Peyton and Rose, wondering what they had that I didn't? I thought maybe I just wasn't attractive enough for you, or that there was something wrong with me that would make me undesirable to a man. So I went out on dates, I started dating Frankie. Then I thought, maybe there wasn't something wrong with me. He likes me. Though now looking back, maybe there was something, I'm not quite sure. Maybe that's why he went off the way he did. And then after that ordeal you came along, playing the part of the knight in shining armor, sitting with me, coming over so I didn't have to be alone. I thought maybe I had been wrong, maybe you did care about me that way. But I was wrong again, next thing I know you're dating Peyton." Stella finally stopped to take a breath.

Realizing if he let her start going again he was never going to get a word in, he did the only thing he could think of to stop her rant. He grabbed her by the shoulders, trapping her between him and the passenger side door of his car parked along the curb and kissed her for all he was worth. At first Stella didn't respond, but then she was kissing him back with equal fervor, her hands clutching at the lapels of his jacket, pulling him even closer to her. Pent up emotions were finally released as they kissed, both trying to desperately to make up for lost time. After a frantic first few minutes, they slowed down, relaxing into each other. Finally the need for oxygen over ruled the need for each other and they separated.

"What the hell was that for Mac?"

"Well, I knew there was only one way to stop you from continuing your little rant. That and to show you that you were wrong. That I do care about you that way, that there's nothing wrong with you. That you're perfect.

"What are you saying Mac?"

"Ti amo. Saghapó. I love you. I'll say it in whatever language you want me to as long as you realize it's true."

Stella stared at Mac, unsure of how to respond, hoping it wasn't an alcohol-induced dream she was going to wake up from. She brought her fingers to her lips; they were slightly swollen from Mac's bruising kiss.

"Stell?" Mac asked, uncertainty in his voice.

A smile spread across her face before growing into a wide smile. Next thing Mac knew Stella launched herself at him, pulling him into a tight hug, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She brought her lips close to his ear and whispered, "I love you too."

She could feel the sigh of relief that left him as his arms tightened around her waist, bringing her even closer.

Mike watched the couple from the shadows of the door. He had wanted to check on the two to make sure everything was ok after he overheard the argument. He smiled as he watched the two detectives embrace, Mac whispering words in Stella's ear, making her laugh. Slowly they pulled apart, Mac's hand on the small of her back leading her to the vehicle, helping her in. Mac walked around to the driver's side of the door. Before getting in, he looked to the door to the bar, catching Mike's gaze. Mac nodded to the older man in thanks before getting into the car and driving off. Smiling to himself, Mike walked back into the bar, intent on shutting down as soon as possible so he could get home to his wife.


Keep your dream alive
Dreaming is still how the strong survive
Once upon a time in New York City
And it's always once upon a time
In New York City

-Once Upon A Time In New York City (Huey Lewis)