"Don, you know I can't prove I was home alone." Stella sipped the warm coffee, feeling even more horrible than she had when she went to bed.

Flack sat across the interrogation table from her and noted the flush of her cheeks. Reaching across, he felt her cheek and forehead. "You're running a fever."

"Told you I was sick." She sighed. "I'm sorry, Don, I know you're just doing your job but I'm sick, Peyton's been shot and I haven't even talked to Mac…"

"Did you call anyone? Order take-out? Anything?"

She shook her head. "I got home around seven, took some Tylenol and went to bed. I didn't wake up till you called." Her green eyes met his. "You don't really think I did it, do you?"

He smiled at her. "Of course not." His cell rang. Looking at the caller ID, he excused himself for a moment.

"How's Peyton?" he asked once he was in the hallway.

"She's going to be fine. Are you with Stella?" Mac asked.

"Yeah. Um, Mac…"

"Peyton said Stella shot her."

Flack closed his eyes and leaned against the wall. "That's not good."

"No, it's not. I'm sure it's the stress and it was just someone who looked like…"

"No, Mac, that's not good because we have a witness who also identified Stella as the shooter as soon as she got to the scene."

Stella looked up when Flack returned. "That's not an encouraging look, Don. Is it Peyton?"

He shook his head. "Mac just called. She's going to be fine."

"Thank God," she sighed.

"Stella, she said you were the one who shot her."

"What?"

"Mac's on his way. I'm sure there's an explanation but…"

The door opened and two officers walked in with handcuffs ready.

Tears filled her eyes. "Don…"

"We'll figure this out." His heart ached as he watched his friend being handcuffed. "She's not feeling well, make sure she has plenty of fluids and some Tylenol," he told the officers.

Lindsay stepped off the elevator with Danny and nearly ran into Flack. "Sorry."

He barely registered her apology.

"Don?" Danny asked. "Is it Peyton?"

"No, she's going to be fine. It's Stella."

"What's wrong with Stella?" Lindsay asked.

"I had to arrest her for shooting Peyton."

Danny's eyes went wide. "What? Come on, you know she wouldn't do that. Why'd you arrest her?"

"You mean aside from the witness at the scene identifying her? Peyton, herself, told Mac that it was Stella too," he snapped.

Running his fingers through his hair, Danny paced. "They're both wrong. I don't know how but they are."

Don and Lindsay merely nodded – all three feeling helpless.

"Stella?"

She groaned from where she was lying on the cot, ignoring the clanking of the metal, jail door. She felt a warm hand on her forehead and opened her eyes. "Sheldon, what are you doing here?"

He smiled at her. "Flack was worried and asked me to come down and check on you. You're running a fever."

"Stating the obvious," she muttered.

Hawkes helped her sit up then sat beside her on the cot, offering support so she could drink the water he brought her and take the medicine. "I'm sure Mac will find a way to smuggle in chicken soup," he offered.

Stella looked at him. "It's really that bad?" When Sheldon looked away without answering, she knew it was. "Great."

"So there's the jailbird," Mac said while the officer unlocked her cell once more.

But Stella didn't smile. "Mac, I'm really not in the mood…"

Taking the hint, Hawkes got up and excused himself, assuring both that he would check on Stella often.

Once they were alone, Mac took the space vacated by Hawkes and slid his arm around her shoulder, encouraging her to rest against him.

"How's Peyton?" she asked.

"She's going to be fine."

She looked up at him. "How are you?"

"I'm fine too." His fingers played with her hair. "You don't look too well, though." He paused then softly said, "The evidence will prove your innocence."

Tears immediately filled her eyes. "I don't care about the evidence, Mac. I just want to know when I'm going to get a break in my life. First there was Frankie, then the HIV scare, now this – and being sick isn't helping! I swear I would never hurt Peyton, let alone shoot her!"

He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead before pulling her close again. "I know. I put a call in to the commissioner about releasing you. Apparently he's at the opera so it may be awhile."

"I need a vacation," she mumbled.

If the situation weren't so serious, Mac would have laughed. As it was, he merely nodded in agreement.

Mac sat in his office staring out the window. He had already taken himself off the lab work part of Peyton's case due to conflict of interest, but he had to do something to clear Stella. Unfortunately all he had was thinking up numerous scenarios – none of which made sense.

Flack walked in and sat down. "Mac, I have to ask you this. Was there ever anything going on with you and Stella?"

He stared at the younger man as if he'd grown another head. "Do you mean romantically?"

"Yeah."

"No. Why?"

Sighing, Flack handed a file to Mac, who read it over quickly. "Don, this doesn't make sense. Is the witness sure of what he saw and heard?"

"The second he saw Stella at the scene he stated she was the shooter and Peyton backs that up… Look, I know it's none of my business but it's also pretty obvious that you and Stella are close – very close. Is it possible that she thought there was more between you two and Peyton brought out a jealousy she didn't realize…"

Mac glared at the detective. "I can't believe you are even questioning that about Stella."

"Mac, I'm just doing my job here."

"I know." He stood up and started pacing. "None of this makes sense. If anything Peyton would have…" He suddenly stopped.

"Peyton would have what?"

Shaking his head, Mac grabbed his jacket and walked out of the office.

Tbc….