Next installment! Definitely one of the lighter chaps I've ever written, but it was tremendously fun! :D So I hope you all like it. Read, Review, and Enjoy!

...three days prior

Chapter 2

"Detective Taylor," Claire said with a grin, "Here are your Oatmeal Squares."

Mac groaned, "You aren't going to get tired of saying that, are you?"

"Nope!" Claire said cheerily. "It has rather a grand ring to it."

Mac sighed. " 'grand ring'," he snorted. "Hardly."

"It does!" Claire protested. "Makes you sound all important and dreadfully cool!"

Mac laughed and shook his head, "You going to go give me my cereal or not?"

Claire handed him the bowl with an exaggerated flourish. "Coffee?" she asked.

"Please."

Claire disappeared back into the kitchen and poured them both a cup of coffee and herself a bowl of cereal. She plopped on the couch next to Mac, who was still only his boxers. She handed him one of the mugs, and he accepted it gratefully.

"What time did you get in last night?" Claire asked, noting his exhausted slouch with an inward wince.

Mac propped his bare feet on the coffee table and yawned, "Far too late." He wearily rubbed one eye and set his coffee mug on the coaster in front of him.

"Do I want to know?" Claire asked.

"Nope," Mac said dryly, around a mouthful of cereal. He finished the last spoonful and set the bowl on the table next to his coffee mug.

Claire stared it for a few seconds, and then looked up at him. She didn't say anything.

"What?" Mac asked, confused.

"You never finish the milk."

"You know I don't like how the cereal flavors it!" Mac protested.

"But you eat it with the cereal," Claire pointed out.

"With the cereal, not without after it's gone all sugary and room temperature!"

"awwww…." Claire said in mock sympathy.

Mac just looked at her, stone faced.

Then without a word he reached forward, and before Claire could even think to react, dumped the rest of his milk in her unfinished cereal, sat back and folded his arms, his expression unmoving.

"Mac!" Claire squeaked.

There was a brief pause as neither of them moved, a mischievous devil smile starting to play at the corners of Mac's lips, Claire staring at her cereal bowl, mouth open in disbelief.

Then at nearly the same moment, she lunged at him, and Mac, bursting out laughing, bolted. He skidded into the bedroom just in front of her and tried to quickly close the door. But Claire was too close on his heels. She ducked past him, grabbed one of the pillows off the still un-made bed, and began pummeling him with it.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You off?"

Mac looked up at Claire who had come around the corner. "Yeah," he sighed, fidgeting with his tie. Claire walked over.

"Here," she said, gently sneaking her fingers underneath his. She smoothed down his collar, "It's fine, Mac. Like you of all people need to worry about how neat your tie looks!" She snorted, "You could make it look perfect if someone was hanging you upside down off a roof! Relax." She stepped back and looked him up and down.

"What?" Mac asked, conceding her point and rolling up first his left shirt sleeve then his right.

Claire reached out and hooked her thumb on his belt, pulling him toward her. She paused, he was close enough so their lips almost touched. She glanced down and then back up at him, "Have I have ever told you how hot you are?" she said, her other hand sneaking up the inside of his leg. Suddenly work was the last thing on Mac's mind.

"You might have mentioned it at some point," he said with a little smile.

"Well it's true." Claire's fingers traced higher, "You sure you have to go just yet?" she asked with a little bite of her lip.

"Yes," Mac groaned tragically.

Claire kissed him slowly. "Well you hold onto that thought then," she said with a sly grin.

"How could I forget?" Mac asked. He clipped his badge to his belt. "When do you have leave?" he asked.

"Not for almost another hour," Claire answered. "First meeting's not 'til ten."

"What did you get up so early for then?"

"I didn't get to see you last night," Claire said simply.

Mac pulled her back to him and gave her one last, hard kiss. "I love you," he said emphatically.

Claire grinned at him, "I know."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Mac got off the elevator. Even though he was finishing his second week at the crime lab, it still felt a bit weird not to be going to the precinct, but he had a feeling it would take longer yet to get used to not wearing a uniform to work. It was the first time in his entire life he didn't have a mandate on exactly what to grab out of the closet in the morning, and he hadn't yet made up his mind whether he liked it or not.

Nodding hello to a few people he'd already grown to recognize, he made his way to the actual lab part of the lab where he had finally called a halt at 1am the prior night to the analysis he'd been running. To be perfectly honest, he had been a bit apprehensive of this new position. The detective side of his job he had no qualms about, and the role felt very natural. But it had been years since he'd seen the inside of any sort of lab. Granted, he had spent an obscene amount of time in them (god, it felt like he had lived in them sometimes…) back at Northwestern University, but the fact remained that once he had gone active duty with the Marines, science was pretty much the last thing that had been on his mind.

He'd always kind of missed it though. He liked the methodical process, the train of reasoning, thought progression and problem solving that went into figuring out a tangled experiment. Sometimes one had the answer and needed to figure out how to get there from a completely unknown starting point, sometimes the other way around, and sometimes all one had was a vague goal to somehow miraculously get to. And he'd been quite good at it.

But it was one thing to have aced college chemistry and biology back when he was nineteen, it was another story to remember it all more than a decade later and to give it an application he had never used it for before. Plus, he tried to forget how long ago how long ago his days at Northwestern were. Although truth be told, they seemed to belong to another world entirely. He grew pensive, as unsummoned and wordless memories, images and feelings of what he had found himself thrust into after trading the college lab and his ROTC cadet rank for infantry lieutenant bars, drifted through his head. He had taken it all head on, with a decorated uniform and scars to prove it. But although his military service would always be what he'd be most proud of, the specifics of those eight years contained places, people, memories and emotions which not even Claire would ever know. There was no way he'd ever burden her with certain things, and it was safer for him too if they remained locked securely in the back of his brain.

He pulled open the door to the lab and took a moment to stare at the row of white lab coats hanging, waiting on their hooks. He shook his head with a small smile and the complete circle of sorts his life had now taken. Five years ago while breathing liquid heat under the blistering Iraqi sun, again, and wondering if he'd ever escape the hellish desert (except for a glorious 2 years in Japan, apparently no other place existed for him to be sent to…), he wouldn't have dreamed that he'd find himself in an air conditioned lab again. Let alone very possibly spending a good amount of the rest of his career in one. He rather liked the prospect.

He grabbed a coat off the hooks, and was just putting an arm into one of the sleeves when he heard a voice behind him.

"Taylor!"

Mac turned. It was Harris, his new boss.

"Don't put that on just yet. We got a double in the South Bronx that just came in. Grab your stuff."