One Doughnut

By Dimgwrthien

Disclaimer: I do not own anything pertaining to the Harry Potter series or affiliates.

You have to recognize when the right place and the right time fuse and take advantage of that opportunity. There are plenty of opportunities out there. You can't sit back and wait.

- Ellen Metcalf

"Smooth move," Stella told Mac, trying to wipe up what had spilled from her cup onto her dress. Mac, trying to ignore both the sounds of every talking and Stella herself, ordered a sake. The pretty, black-haired waitress appeared with a small shot glass of sake balanced on chopsticks over a cup of beer. He dumped the shot glass and downed it in misery.

So far, the night could not have gotten worse. He entered the restaurant with Stella, realized that they were out of shrimp and eggplant (which, he remembered too late, was the best thing on the menu), had to deal with a family sitting nearby with some small kids, and now that one of them knocked over the drinks.

He was still sitting on the comments from Sonny Sassone. Mac could already figure out a few things from his quickly-planned (and ill-experienced) night:

1. Someone hurting Stella would break him.

2. He could understand why that man (Frankie was it?) loved Stella.

3. Claire seemed very far away.

4. One of the kids had stepped on his foot and it was starting to hurt.

Stella glanced at Mac, still wiping down the front of her dress. It was wet, but looked clean. "Do you want to leave?" she asked in a low voice. Mac finished his beer and stood up, crossing the table before Stella could, and pulling her chair out for her. Even if the night was ruined so far, he wouldn't let himself be ruined by it.

Mac paid, left a tip, and walked Stella out of the restaurant. It seemed strangely silent outside, and cold. Mac absently took off his coat and draped it around Stella's shoulders before he saw what he had done. She smiled at him and hugged the shoulders closer to her neck.

He opened the car door for her, too, the climbed in the driver's seat. It took him a moment to remember he needed his keys, then another minute to fit them into the ignition. Stella gave him a nervous glance.

"I think you're too drunk to drive," she laughed. Mac took the keys out of the ignition, blinking at the blurred lights before him. Maybe the sake wasn't a good idea. "I am, too." Stella pulled off her high heels, holding them by the black straps.

Leaning into the seat, Mac said, "We can always walk back."

"Not in these." Stella grimaced and put the heels in her lap. "We should just wait until one of us can still see clearly." She moaned and stretched out like Mac. "Want to grab some coffee?"

Mac nodded, starting to get out of the car as Stella put her shoes back on.

The closest coffee shop seemed to be a bit down the street. Stella slammed the car door, walked up to Mac. Mac could only imagine how horrible she felt in those shoes. He thought he would already fall to one side in his dress shoes.

Stella snaked one arm into his, linking them as they walked. Mac tried to tell himself, It's so that neither of us will collapse, but it didn't seem to convince him. Her breath was close to his neck, warm and sweet.

Once inside, Stella took a seat in one of the red chairs at the counter. Mac glanced around, his eyes getting adjusted to the florescent light filling the area, reflecting off linoleum and plastic. He sat next to her, and she slipped his jacket back to him.

A plump waitress with her dyed red hair tied back appeared with two mugs and a pot of coffee. Without asking, she poured some into both mugs. "Would you like anything else?" she asked.

"Do you have doughnuts?" Stella asked.

The waitress looked over her shoulder. "Just one right now. I'll have to get another batch."

"I'll take it." Stella took the small plate with the white frosting and chocolate stripes. Splitting it in half, she handed part of it to Mac.

"No thanks," he said, passing it back. His head still pounded from the noise of the restaurant and the drinks. He glanced at her once more, watching her dip a bit of the doughnut into the coffee. "Stella?"

"Hmm?"

I've never given you a sexual look. I've never touched you like that. That doesn't mean I don't love you. That doesn't mean I wouldn't throw myself into any danger for you.

"That dress looks nice on you."