A/N: The responses I've gotten for this story just blow me away. Thank you so much guys for taking the time to read, and also for taking the time to comment. It really means a lot to me. Hope you enjoy this next session :)
Carrie handed her a cup of tea as they sat across from each other in the large, overstuffed chairs in her office. She watched as Stella took a sip and then settled back, letting the warmth flood through her.
"I was sorry we had to cancel our time last week," she said sincerely. "Are you feeling better?"
Stella nodded. "I think it was the flu. Whatever it was knocked me down hard. Mac wouldn't even let me come into the office."
Carrie smiled at her. "He's just trying to take care of you. You do it for him all the time."
"He never listens."
"Sometimes he does, Stella. He's lucky to have you, and I think he knows that. I'm not sure he'd know what to do without you."
"You've never even met him."
"No, but I've heard the way you talk about him. I've met a few men like Mac – they need someone to take care of them. Because they're so busy fixing the world for everyone else."
"He's good at it, though," Stella said quietly. "Fixing the world."
Carrie paused. "Do you love him?"
The question seemed to startle Stella. "What?"
"Mac. Do you love him?"
"He's my closest friend…"
"That's not what I mean, and you know it."
For a long minute, the two women just stared at each other. Finally, Stella sighed and dropped her gaze.
"I've thought about it. Once or twice."
"And?"
She shook her head. "Mac is my family. He's not like a father, or a brother, or anything like that. He's just…he's family. And I don't think either of us would ever cross that line."
"But do you want to?"
Stella stared out the window. "Like I said, once or twice…" She shook her head again. "But it wouldn't work."
"Why not?"
"Because…because I'd kill myself taking care of him. I'd take every one of his burdens onto my shoulders – his ghosts, his demons…I would try to fix him. And that's not what a relationship is about." She took a deep breath. "So yes, I love him. But not like that. Not enough to lose myself in his pain."
Carrie slowly smiled. "You've never actually said any of that aloud, have you?"
Stella chuckled, wiping at her eyes. "No, I haven't. It feels good though."
"Tell me…when you were sick and at home, did any of your friends come to see you?"
She nodded. "Lindsay came. And Don."
"Don came to see you?"
"Twice, actually."
"Oh?"
"Once, he brought me dinner. Chicken noodle soup that his mother made. It was very good."
Carrie smiled. "And the second time?"
Stella rolled her eyes. "He came by on Saturday, his day off. I told him he didn't have to, but…he stayed. All day."
"All day? What did the two of you do?"
"Watched Alfred Hitchcock movies, and he made us a grand lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches."
"So he took care of you."
She nodded. "Yeah. He's pretty good at it, too. He even tucked me in before he left."
"Did he kiss your forehead?"
Stella frowned. "Actually, yeah. How did you know?"
Carrie just smiled. "Lucky guess."