Thank you for the wonderful reviews I got for this ex-one-shot, also to autumngold and key-ra, sorry I couldn't send a proper reply. Some people asked if there could be more to this story, and I've had a horrible week, so more comfort food is called for … and here goes a second chapter.
Mac closes his eyes, a soft breeze brushing over his face. His hand is on the railing, feeling flakes of paint lift like a breath under his touch. It's quiet where he is, quiet now, after his work is done. Traffic flows past somewhere in the background. He lets it drift away; it has nothing to do with him. Not now. He sits down on the steps and lets the river lick his fingers and wash away the days. Never the same water. It's over.
He's glad it's over. Three days of slipping into a different skin, of wearing another name, he's glad it's over. Glad to be himself again, feeling no cloak of vice around him. It slips off his shoulders, taking the worry along. The same worry he had felt fold around Stella when he left, and that he had felt lift from her voice when he called. The same he would have felt had it been the other way around.
He leans back, resting his weight on his hands, and lets the reflections of the evening sun play over his face. This day is almost over and he can go home. He chuckles a little at the thought where home is most of the time. He sees nothing wrong with it, after all the people he considers his family are there too.
He hears footsteps, her footsteps, familiar sound waves under his fingers. In the last rays of the sun a smile curls his lips. He feels a silent question forming because of the silence he keeps.
"I'm okay." he answers it, "Really." And turning upwards he opens his eyes to let her see the truth. To confirm what she hears in his voice.
The sun comes up again in her smile. He gets up and together they walk to her car, his hand on her back. For a moment he thinks she seems to be leaning into it. He lets the warmth of the touch flood through him. Like water, cleaning him. Himself again, with the one who knows him so well.
They spend a good part of the ride in silence, Stella smoothly steering the car through the stream of traffic. The humming of the air-conditioning a comfortable backdrop. He lets the cool air flow into him, lets it replace the staleness of the days undercover, life in the underground. It was really under the ground, submerged, submarine.
Another glance of hers glides over him, transporting relief. "So," she asks, "what happened down there?"
He tells her, everything; all the little moments of crushed hopes and growing concern, and finally the triumph. No words are needed between them but the sound of his voice is welcome. "And how were your days?"
"Quiet." she muses, "Sort of …"
"Did I miss anything? Don't tell me you replaced that printer?" he asks with a lopsided smile.
She chuckles softly, shaking her head.
I did miss something for sure he thinks, you by my side.
She looks at him, radiating warmth.
They pull up outside the lab and walk inside. And she feels his touch again, on her back. He takes in the familiarity of the place with pleasure. Was it really only three days? Even the air that he breathes is full of welcome memories. Welcoming smells meeting his nostrils as Stella guides him towards the break room.
He looks at her inquiringly, "You've got coffee ready?"
She beams with delight, "And there's more."
Mac peeks into the break room. Flack, Adam, and cakes. He looks back at Stella who gently pushes him towards the table.
"We've kept a piece especially for you." Flack greets the CSI, "Welcome back to the good side."
"I hope you mean the good side of life by that." Mac smiles wryly as he sits down.
Adam pushes a piece of cake towards him. "Irish coffee." the lab tech explains.
It does indeed look like the good side of life, Mac takes a bite, and it tastes like it too. He looks into the round, relishing the feeling to be amongst friends. The people he can rely on. More than just co-workers. No need to hide anything, no need to pretend. They are all who they are, complete with their faults and pains, and their strengths and joys.
"You know," Mac says, "I think we should do this more often, get together not just for work."
Flack nods enthusiastically to say yes. He's not in a hurry to swallow the goodness he's chewing on. Adam gives him a sideways glance and the detective shrugs, then points at them all around, including himself.
"I guess Flack wants to say that you don't have to be the only one who provides the cakes." Stella speculates and Flack nods again, drawing a shy smile from Adam.
"And of course all the others are welcome too, Angell," Mac adds, looking at Flack, "Danny and Lindsay, Kendall," his look moves on to Adam, "Hawkes, and Sid." He smiles at the thought of maybe having a bone-shaped cake on his plate soon.
Mac feels Stella's arm against his, feels the glow of her happiness wrap around him. The warm buzz of their conversation fills the room. Mac closes his eyes and lets the feeling settle. Home, comfort.
Thank you for taking the time to read. I hope you enjoyed this chapter too. Please don't hesitate to let me know what you think. Also, should I continue this the way Mac suggested? I've got more recipes to share :).