Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Thank you, again, to Lily_Moonlight and her opinion and corrections.

Sorry for the slight delay; I had meant to post much earlier but a really crazy travel got in the way.
I split the second part up for reader's convenience. The third and finaly part should be up much quicker though! Enjoy!


"Mac?" she exclaimed once she had found her voice again, staring at the figure standing in front of her – completely soaked. An image she had seen before, 15 months ago when she had opened the door to reveal him standing in the exact same spot, looking the exact same way. Six weeks after she had left New York; eight weeks after she had last seen him. Eight weeks after they had spoken those painful and hurtful words that she had thought unnecessary then and now knew to have been cruel and heart-wrenching but essential. Because after tearing them apart it was those words which had brought them closer together than they had ever been before.

"It's raining," he stated.

She lifted her brows mockingly, her eyes wandering down and up his body. "Now that you mention it…"she replied, suppressing a smile. An exchange that hadn't happened 15 months ago since at the sight of him the tears she hadn't cried after the actual dispute had finally spilled forth and all he had done was draw her into his arms. He had held her, soothed her and then, before they had spoken a word, their lips had met in a play of passion, desire, needs. Lost within seconds they had followed where it had led them, and it wasn't until an hour after his arrival that, snuggled into the sheets, they had finally talked.

But tonight wasn't then and realizing that she hadn't moved, she opened the door wider.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, shutting the door behind him. He was supposed to be in New York, at work, as he had told her he would be when he'd been in New Orleans at Thanksgiving. He wouldn't be able to spend either Christmas or New Year with her, he had said with the deepest regret and apology.

"I live here," he replied smartly. "Partially, at least," he added, leaning forward. Yet she took a step back.

"You're drenched," she reminded him then grinned. "You shouldn't have walked from the airport."

"Had to park down the street," he grunted, not the least amused. Or at least pretending not to be, the twinkle his eyes lit up with said something different.

But she didn't notice, his choice of words having caught her attention. "Park?" she inquired.

He glanced up, their eyes meeting.

"I've got a rental," he said shortly.

"What for?" she pried. He had never rented a car; she had one so there had been no need for him to do so…Yet he just shrugged with indifference, seemingly sidetracked as he reached into his jacket, retrieving two papers from his inside pocket. Both were damp but appeared to be relatively unaffected and relief settled on his features. Curiosity lined hers yet he ignored it.

"Let me change first," he said and was already heading for the bathroom before she had had a chance to reply.

"Sure," she muttered in a delayed reaction, watching him disappear. And smiled at the grumble she heard almost the same instant. The bathroom surely still resembled a sauna and he probably felt like he had run against a wall.

"You weren't supposed to be here!" she called after him, unable to resist the teasing.

Another grumble was her reply and she laughed, finally moving from her spot. Less tired than she had felt moments ago, she strolled into the kitchen and started preparing the intended tea. Faint noises remained in the background; all those sounds of someone else being present and which proved that he was really here, something which was sinking in only slowly. Especially since deep down, she had hoped for such a surprise a week ago and had struggled with disappointment the night of Christmas Eve and all day of Christmas Day, not even daring to hope this time…

"Hey," he said softly, startling her out of her thoughts. His arms wrapped around her and smiling, she glanced over her shoulder.

His wet dress pants and shirt were replaced by sweats and a sweater and satisfied, she leaned in. "Hey yourself," she replied, lifting her head so his lips could capture hers. Engage her in a kiss filled with the tenderness and caution of a first time, the affection and love of a seasoned couple, the curiosity and fervor of teenagers. A mixture of emotions full of the contrasts they as persons were, sensations which were so familiar yet still left so much to discover and they took their time to explore before beginning to draw apart. Her head sinking into the crook of his neck, they savored the aftermath, the rhythmic beating of their hearts drowning out the rest of the world.

"Where'd you put your wet clothes?" she asked in a murmur, her eyes still closed.

"In the tub," he said, the smile that she couldn't see audible in his voice. As tidy and organized as he was, worn clothes usually ended up in a heap on a chair or the bed where they were left for her to find. Something she minded only because she didn't understand why it was so much more of an effort to open the closet door and throw clothes into a laundry hamper. But finding clothes on chairs also meant that he was with her, that they were spending some of those few days a month together and it was a habit of his that she had secretly come to adore.

Shifting, she let her eyes flutter open, turning in his arms and feeling for his hands which rested on her lower back, covering his with hers. "How long are you here for?" she asked, her voice as hopeful as the gaze she looked at him with.

To her surprise and intrigue he was hesitant, his hands entwining with hers. He toyed with her fingers before breaking the embrace, tightening his grip around one of her hands as the other let go. Ignoring the curious puzzlement on her face he led her out of the kitchen and the tea forgotten, she followed him into the living-room, over to the tree they had gotten during his stay on Thanksgiving. An artificial tree as they hadn't found anything else but he had insisted they needed one and she had relented. – And she was happy now that she had as it sparkled in the fairy lights they had decorated it with, basking the room in a magical glow, making the raindrops which drummed against the window shimmer in the hues of a rainbow.

Obliging to his tender urging, she lowered herself onto the arm rest of the sofa, her hand though remained entwined with his, her hold tightening when she felt him wanting to draw away, loosening when his tightened in return: a game of affection that had started the first time they had stood at New Orleans' airport three days after he had shown up at her door. Since then, their romantic relationship had deepened to incredible strength, the game, on the other hand, was still the same. Still a code for words they didn't need to speak, a symbol for the invisible bond they were connected through.

A knowing smile on their lips, laughter dancing in their eyes, she finally let his hand go free and it slipped out of her reach, the sensations, however, lingering within her.

"Originally, I'd planned on being here last week," he explained, retrieving a wrapped, box-shaped object from his pants' pockets. "But Sinclair begged me to stay," he added with a grunt. She couldn't suppress the smirk; she hadn't been particularly fond of the Chief either but the fact that he had made it possible for her to be able to leave New York within two weeks 1 ½ years ago had cemented Mac's dislike for his boss even further.

"And I don't know why I let him talk me into doing him a last favor," he muttered. Her eyes snapped up.

"Is he retiring?" she asked.

Again, Mac regarded her with hesitation. "No," he said slowly, spiking her curiosity further. In response, he extended the gift but she didn't take it, studying him instead. She had gotten her Christmas gifts already; they had opened their gifts on Christmas morning while on the phone. She the ones he had placed beneath the tree on Thanksgiving, he the ones she had sent to New York after learning that they wouldn't be able to spend the holidays together.

"Open it," Mac demanded gently, squeezing in between her and the back of the sofa.

Finally taking the gift, she inspected it for another moment before placing a kiss on his lips and leaning into the arm which snaked around her waist as she began to peel away the paper.

"Keys?" she wondered, glancing over her shoulder with confusion. They weren't keys to his apartment in New York; those looked different and she had gotten her set back with the start of their relationship anyway. But he didn't reply or offer an explanation, he simply smiled with a ghost of mystery playing around his lips.

"There's more," he said, the deep timbre of his voice calm, wrapping her into a soothing grasp. Though she could tell that he was nervous as hesitation flashed up in his eyes again and a second passed before he retrieved a folded piece of paper from his pants' pockets. The same he had had in his jacket earlier, the paper undulated at its edges and she watched him hold on to it. He seemed to want to comment but in the end he didn't, handing her the paper wordlessly instead and observing her every move as she unfolded it.

"Mac!" she gasped once she had scanned over it, sitting up straight and slipping out of his arms. At a loss for words, she stared at him then at the paper she had in her hands; the copy of his resignation as the head of the New York crime lab, of an NYPD officer altogether.