My True Love Gave To Me
Disclaimer: Don't you wish I owned the show? Well actually if I were you I'd be wishing for myself, not some other CSI: NY fan who would probably hold the actors captive until they succumbed to their demands. Not that that thought has gone through any of our head's ;).
Pairing: Mac/Stella, SMacked.
Rating: K+
Summary: Our favourite couple join in on the festivities this Christmas :D.
Author's Note: Okay, so I totally was not planning on writing another fic before Christmas because I wanted to get started (and complete!) on the second chapter of "Waiting on Angel" but I got side tracked by the plot bunny that came hopping into my mind the other night :P. So here I am with yet another fiction I will most certainly not have completely posted by Christmas Day. Oh well, its been fun xD. Hope you like it! :D
Chapter I.
"You know that Christmas time is the time of the year with the highest suicide rate?" Sid recited solemnly without looking up from the stiff, detached body of the young woman lying across the autopsy table; her eyes wide open and skin disgustingly pallor.
"So I guess all that Christmas spirit about hope, faith, and love is kinda lost on you then, huh Sid?" Stella, the curly haired detective, asked with her voice only a notch less confidant than it had been when she stepped off the elevator into the morgue.
He gasped in faux surprise and, lifting his head from the t-cut that ran down the deceased's chest and abdomen, he chastised the detective teasingly. "Why Stella, you know me not to be a Scrooge. In fact I'm positively overflowing with excitement at the prospect of Christmas Eve and day, and of course the rest of the week off I have to spend with my girls."
With that rebuttal Stella could not disagree for as long as she had ever known Sid she had believed him to be the prime example of Christmas joy and excitement, like a child wound up from sugar cookies and the anticipation meeting Santa Claus for the very first time. In fact she, as well as much of the New York crime lab, knew that Sid bought his Christmas tree November 30th and had all of his Christmas shopping done by the middle of the second week of December. He handed out candy canes and homemade gingerbread cookies to employees and colleagues alike, hummed Christmas carols in the elevator, and once made a habit of strategically placing mistletoe above open doorways and elevators. Stella chuckled softly at the memory but apparently loud enough to garner her friend's attention.
"Something funny, my dear Ms. Bonasera?" Sid questioned, his eyes pointed towards her while his hands steadily made yet another incision in the young lady's body.
"Nothing." Stella replied quickly, as if she was a schoolgirl once more and caught doing something that she had rather not been caught doing. "So what do we have, Doc?"
Sid noticed but did not comment on the swift change of topic and resumed is brief inspection of the deceased. He didn't want to look up but he couldn't keep looking down at the contents of the young woman's body. Sighing, he brought his face up to the woman across the table and with a frown etched on his aging face, and said the words he had too much familiarity with.
"She was murdered alright, but something is telling me she wanted it."
This, just as the doctor has assumed, had the CSI frowning.
"Now don't get wrong Sid, coz' you know I love you, but no one really wants to be in this morgue."
He swallowed and looked down at the contents once more. Too many tests ago Sid had been taught the signs of drug and substance abuse, had seen the outcome of Clorox consumed, of not struggling at all when a pillow was pressed just a little too hard to the mouth and nose. The thing was that no matter how many autopsies he preformed it never got any easier for him to say the results aloud.
"She was suicidal, Stella." The words felt like bricks, falling between the two professional and on to the victim, compressing what little life she had left, what little that Sid and Stella liked to believe the victims had left. "And from what I can tell these were some pretty new damage. You can see from around her mouth where she was smothered, and the fact she's swallowed a lethal volume of bleach product, and that there are no defensive wounds anywhere, there aren't even bruises on the wrists to present forceful action. This girl wanted to die and I wouldn't be surprised at all if she knew her attacker."
It was moments like these that Sid understood why Stella disliked the morgue so much, why she feels uncomfortable or "creeped out" or grossed out when she comes face to face with the reaction to a life or death action. So mustering up his courage, Sid dragged his attention from the girl—who really could not be any more than nineteen years old—and instead to the woman with fierceness in her eyes that startled the elder of the two.
"Sid, and you can take my word for this one, no one wants suicide to be the answer."
Nodding in agreement, Sid broke apart his glasses and tucked them away. He wouldn't press the conversation any longer than necessary nor would he offer any form of comfort regarding the case, he knew Stella and how she worked and that it would be best to not further the difficult feelings by vocalizing them now.
"Well in the spirit of togetherness and embracing life," Sid began, gaining Stella's otherwise waning interest. "We're all still on for Christmas, correct?"
And contradicting her previous attitude this question had Stella grinning ear-to-ear.
"But of course, is there any better use of time than massacring turkey and shredding wrapping paper over eggnog shots and red wine?" Stella retorted rhetorically, eliciting a smirk from her friend.
"One o'clock?" He asked despite the fact he already knew the answer.
"One o'clock." She assured him despite the fact it was needless.
And with that the Greek detective snatched the autopsy report from the side table and headed towards the elevator doors, hairs flouncing around her shoulders and smile stretched over her pretty face. She, just as always, would be sure to arrive at 12:40 sharp.
A Tiffany's Elsa Peretti black leather backpack cost a sum total of four hundred seventy five dollars at regular price, now considering that Mac was no shopaholic and didn't even like grocery shopping all that much, it came as a great surprise to himself when he had managed to snag the backpack for a mere four hundred dollars with no tax while on some kind of discount.
He had smiled to the young lady working the cash with her dangling Christmas ornament earrings and Christmas tree pendant falling down the v-neck of her red knit sweater. The young redhead looked as if she belonged in an ABC holiday special or a small town church choir rather than among the likes of mid-town New York and the little blue boxes his partner had professed to loving so much. She smiled at the detective and the black bag in his hand and the whole store lit up like the Christmas tree at the Rockefeller Centre.
"Good afternoon, sir, did you have any trouble finding anything today?" The cashier asked as she accepted the bag being passed over the counter to her, her eyes the colour of the ice covering the sidewalks outside.
"No, no trouble at all." Mac replied with a smile, quickly checking the time on his watch as the young woman rung the price up for the expensive gift.
"This is a pretty pricey gift, y'know, I sure hope whoever you're getting this for appreciates it." She smiled warmly as she felt the leather against the pads of her fingers, the nails of which were painted in a pattern of red and green for the holidays.
"Well I'm sure she will love it. She loves everything about this store." Mac chuckled to himself as the price was totalled and he swiped his credit card while the cashier with a nametag that read Melinda grabbed a plain white box off the shelf behind and her.
"Expensive taste, eh? Wish I could get a gift with such a fancy price tag, but then I guess it's the thought that counts, huh? Red, green, or blue tissue paper?" She asked the CSI who regarded the brightly coloured tissue only briefly.
"Uhm, blue I guess." No that it really mattered since Stella was just going to tear the thing apart like a child a child on Christmas morning anyway, especially when she knew him to be a softy when it came to her and wanting to please her. Apparently the fact that he would buy her just about anything put thoughts of Tiffany's in her head and Mac was not willing to disappoint her.
Once the knapsack was wrapped up neatly in the light blue tissue paper and placed inside of the white box and then inside of a larger bag, Melinda smiled and wished Mac very happy holidays and good luck with the gift, he exchanged the gesture and headed back out into the cold December weather.
Mac was absolutely sure Stella would approve of her gift this year, not that she had ever disapproved in the past, but this one he was certain she would love. In the years before Mac had made it a habit to buy her one expensive gift and one less expensive gift, it usually was some kind of purchase from Tiffany's and Co. and bottle of wine or box of chocolates or something along those lines.
He recalled how in the previous year, Stella had opened a slender white box to reveal a Sterling silver bead bracelet that she had all but fallen head over heels for. The memory of her squealing in delight as she opened the box, as she tried on the piece of jewellery, as she hugged him tightly in thanks burned in his mind and brought a smile to the CSI's face. He just hoped this year she'd be just as impressed with his shopping abilities but then Stella had a way of surprising him and with that he headed back to the black Avalanche he had drove on the way to pick up her gift and headed back in the direction of the New York Crime Lab.
"Okay, okay, I'm leavin' now." Danny spoke hurriedly into his cell phone, the voice of a hysterical woman faint in the background. Turning the cellular device off, Danny turned on a heel and all but ran his boss over as he moved towards the doorway.
They clashed instantly and after a moment of shock and recovery, Mac tossed Danny an expression that was all too familiar to the younger man. A look of humour and questioning was evident on Mac, what with his thin lips and narrowed eyes; it was enough to make a weaker man cower. Thank God that Danny was much more terrified of his wife than his boss.
"Oh, sorry 'bout that Mac, didn't see you there." He began, mouth rambling but body itching to get out of the lab and to his apartment where his wife and daughter were awaiting his return. "I've just gotta run coz' Linds' parents flight is gonna be landin' soon and y'know how Linds hates drivin' in the city and in the winter so guess whose playin' chauffer?"
At this Mac cracked a small smile and clapped his hand over the younger man's shoulder.
"Get of here, you don't want leave Lindsay alone preparing for the arrival of your in laws, now do you?"
Relieved, Danny raced past his boss with a look of determination in his eyes before calling back over his shoulder a shout of thanks before sliding through a puddle of water and into the opening elevator doors. Mac laughed humouredly at the man's good fortune.
Continuing down the hallway Mac made his way towards his office, his mind set on the fact he had a mountain of paperwork to be completed in the next two days before Christmas Day. God Mac really hated paperwork but he knew it had to be done and although the temptation to ditch the impending torturous hours of filling out files and bombard the higher ups with snowballs—hey, he was all for the season of winter—crossed his mind he knew that probably would not be the wisest course of action since he wanted to keep both his job and his vacation days although with the amount of days off Mac had saved up one would think he could retire.
Actually the person who had once told him that he could go into early retirement on his hoarded vacation days alone was now sitting behind the desk in his office, her long legs crossed over one another on his chair and her long caramel curls framing her face. Subconsciously, Mac smiled and pushed open the glass doorway that separated them.
"You know you aren't a very smart shopper, right Mac?" Stella asked teasingly as he entered the office, his eyes wandering towards the pile of uncompleted forms taking up room on the edge of his desk. He damned them internally and diverted his attention to his partner who sat twirling a long, curly lock of hair around one manicured finger.
"And how is that, Stella?" He humoured her although he absentmindedly gathered the stack of paper off his desk and placed them on the coffee table parallel his couch.
"For a CSI you sure are slow today." Her voice tinkled with humour as she mocked her friend. "I could have very well triangulated your cell and found out where you were buying my gift from."
This caught Mac's attention and with an amused little smirk, Mac stepped towards the chair that his partner was currently occupying.
"Sounds like you're not on you're A game today, Detective." He began, his lips twisted into a silly smirk as he turned the chair around to face him. "You shouldn't still be guessing where I buy your Christmas gifts, that or you are terrible at being observant."
Rolling her beautiful green eyes, Stella laughed shortly for Mac had made a very good point.
"Well played, sir." The Greek detective retorted with a taunting smirk. "But then I am not one to forget and revenge is a dish best served cold."
Mac laughed next and grasped her left hand in his right, tugging her gently from the chair so they could switch positions, him in his desk and her sitting on it next to him.
Stella took her place on the glass desk, close enough to be friendly with Mac but out of the way enough so that he could manage to reach every part of his desk and not be disturbed by her presence. Smiling, she let her eyes wander over her partner's body lazily, from his thinning brown locks of hair to his stellar blue irises. The mere sight of him was enough to have a smile bloom over her face and when he was like, as near to playful behaviour as he had been in days, it made something wonderful occur inside of her, something that she never wanted to let go of. Mac had a way of doing things like that to her.
"So where is it?" Her question seemingly surprising both her and her partner by its abruptness.
"Where's what, Stell?" Mac queried evenly, his eyebrow only arching somewhat.
"My gift, of course." She smiled humorously. "I know you bought it today."
Mac sighed, how had he ever fooled himself into believing Stella would give up this line of questioning every Christmas season?
"Purchased, wrapped, and hidden until Christmas Eve. You know how it goes, Stell. No peeking."
With her lips in a pouty fashion, Stella watched her friend work avidly for a few more minutes before pushing up from the desk with a bored kind of expression on her face. It was not as if her friend bored her or that she had anything better to do for that matter or that she was at all bothered by the fact that Mac wouldn't give in and just tell her what he picked out for Christmas but she figured he might want to get some paperwork done before his three days of vacation and she knew how few of those days he actually put to good use.
So, opting not to distract Mac, Stella reminded him that Christmas Eve was indeed only a three short days away and that she would use the nutcracker for a whole new purpose if he was going to bail on their holiday plans. Mac had chuckled at her joking threat that did not sound all that joking and bid her goodbye before focusing his attention back to the task at hand, only letting his eyes look up from the paper quickly to watch her hips sway slightly as she left the room and before she could do her patent Stella move where she turned to face him once more.
They really had been working together for to long.
A/N: Kay, so I'm thinking about ending the chapter here, mostly because I have a dozen ideas and do not yet know how to incorporate them into a next chunk of this chapter :P. So while you kind people review this (because I am every cliché in the book when it comes to wanting reviews) I will be hard at work on the upcoming chapter instead of bothering to do my all important summative assignments that sit beside me, unattended and much too difficult to even think about doing over the holidays :P.