Disclaimer - first chapter.

AN - this chapter only has some Peyton and Mac in it, because though I may very much dislike her, I'm not about to make her suffer, at least... not yet. LOL.

Only read over it once, so sorry for anything that didn't get fixed.

Read and Review.

¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯

Chapter Two

Traffic... is all about the idea, fantasy, larger than life place that New York has become, the yellow taxi cab, the bike messenger (along with the angry New Yorker cursing at him for nearly running him over) – the tour busses, filled to the brim with excited and awed foreigners so overwhelmed by being in the 'Big Apple', their faces as shiny as a fully lit december christmas tree. Along with commuters, families, everyone trying to get from one place to the next the easiest way possible, and for that person on their way to the first day in a new job — as fast as possible.

But of all the years Mac had lived in New York, today he wasn't exactly beaming with joy of such a cultured and thriving city he calls his home.

"Get out of the way asshole!"

"You first you–"

Turning up his car radio he tried to let the mix of car horns, engines and lots of swearing drown out. If this headache he had since the morning got any worse he was likely to burst a vain. And he knew not only would that give him no choice but to go home and take unnecessary time off, but Stella would surely give him one hell of an earful about not taking care of himself. On that thought Mac un-tensed slightly, she always seemed to have that affect on him. Case got to much, even for him, she'd bring his anger or frustration to a still. Not to mention she pulled him out of the hole he threw himself into after 911.

He had seen that they had been drifting apart more each week, he told himself. I'll call her tonight. Then, I'll do it tomorrow. He put it down to work, even though there was way more between them than just work, they weren't just partners as cops or as scientists, she was his partner, in every sense of the word, which at times had scared him, that he could have such an open connection with someone.

Maybe because of hat, it made him take a chance on a relationship with Peyton.. he might have done it anyway, but he had doubts in the back of his mind that he pushed away on a daily basis. He did care about Peyton, in some sense he saw her as that second change he had been too unstable to take when he had felt something for Jane awhile back. Maybe he did have this underlying attraction to English women, Claire had English and Irish roots on her father's side, they had gone to Ireland for their first anniversary. So many things, memories of her, he still was scared from time to time that if he started creating new memories, the some that meant so much, would wither away and be forgotten. Not that he wasn't trying with Peyton, he did from the moment he woke up till the time he got himself to close his eyes again.

Finally he got himself to the doors of the Lab building, into the elevator, taking a rare brief second to let out a deep breath. But before he got the change to bask in the calm silence the doors opened no long before they had closed. A somewhat frizzy brunette with curls he could probably recognize from another state, revealed as the mental doors slid open. Tilting his head up from his gaze at the floor, Mac's gaze fell onto his partner's face. Suddenly feeling highly slow motion he blinked as she stepped into the elevator.

A smile as always, Stella flashed a somewhat lower wattage one over at him before going back to aimlessly staring at the floor level indicators. By the time the doors opened, people got in on various floors and the elevator hit 35th, Stella stepped off and before he had a chance to call after her she was gone. Maybe later.

So in his well known work-mode he stepped off, but before he went to his office, he headed to the Break Room.

"Mac..."

Caught off guard Mac jumped vaguely before composing himself, "Peyton."

Peyton in a slight over vision in peach walked up to him beaming of a cheery mood, one Mac was not exactly sharing. As she handed him a coffee and kissed his cheek, Mac tried not to cut her off from himself, again, trying, not one-hundred percent successful.

"You look exhausted Mac. You're not coming down with a cold are you?" Peyton queried, her brow wrinkling.

"I'm fine." Short maybe, but he was tired, more emotionally, than physical.

"Listen, how about a home cooked meal, some wine, and we spend the rest of the night with a movie."

Her hopeful tone and pleading look obvious to him as it was a regular routine between them, not that it wasn't bad, he enjoyed her company, but on some level, he still found the whole situation weird. Maybe it would get easier. That was his hope.

"... I don't know. I might get off sometime in the morning, I wouldn't want you to be left waiting." A small genuine smile on his face.

Peyton nodded, "Well, how about.." She drew out, as she busied herself fixing his tie. "You call me if you do finish at a 'normal' time, okay." And with another kiss on his cheek she walked her way out, leaving him to think it over.

Sipping at his coffee he stepped into the hallway, seeing Stella just walking down the hall, and he found himself again wanting to call her name, but his mouth closed and he turned on his heel, in the opposite direction. And into his office.

His investigator trained eyes caught sight of a yellow piece paper on his desk, he leant over, pausing with it in his hand to admire the photo, then seeing a familiar handwriting he slowly sat onto his chair.

He would be lying if he said that at that moment he didn't feel guilty, but once he read over the last words he let himself smile.

Yes she had reached out to him... but he wasn't going to let her do everything, their friendship was his to hold together too, so, shrugging off his suit jacket he tossed it over to the couch on the other side of the room. Then placing the note in his draw he peeled off one from the same post-it pad as Stella had.

With the pen in his hand he wrote without thinking, then getting to his feet he headed into the hall, feeling something like a child sneaking around in the middle of the night to get cookies, hoping not to get caught. Opening Stella's office door, he checked the hall for anyone, preferably Stella. Walking in he placed the note on the top of her computer screen, he smoothed it down before quietly going back out - a faint light of happiness in his mostly distant and sometimes cold brown eyes.

I miss you too, Stella.

TBC