Okay here is the next installment. Sorry for making everyone wait so long but life happens. You know the drill, Mac and Stella would be happily married by now if I owned the right to anything. if I remember any side notes I'll add them latter or at the begining of the next installment. Enjoy! VaniDot

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Chapter 3: Mental Images

Mac Taylor came home from a long day at work feeling particularly exhausted. He couldn't get the image of that Bonasera woman out of his head. Every where he looked she was there like an image superimposed on another photo only this one of a little girl also named Stella. He shook the likeness from his head angrily. There was only one Stella in his life, the one he had saved thirty years ago not this new interloper into his well ordered life.

By heaven that woman drove him mad. She always had something to say about everything and she couldn't let him have the last word on anything. She was always finishing his conclusions before he could. Then she'd had the audacity to use the last of his stash of half & half at work. How could she not see the name on it? It was clearly written on the bottom of the cardboard pint.

When he walked in the front door of the brownstone that had been in his family since the early nineteen hundreds, an explosion of smells hit him in the face. That could only mean one thing... Sidney was cooking. Mac shook his head and sighed having hoped to get some alone time away from the hustle and bustle of the more congested sections of the city. Sid apparently had other ideas. As expected, Sid was in the kitchen in a chef's hat and apron. He looked every bit the part of Mac's servant from the old days instead of one of the top medical examiners of the country.

"Sid, you worked the same sift I did. You didn't have to come here and cook for me. Go home; be with your wife and kids." Mac ordered causing Sid to look up from the dish he was fastidiously arranging on plates.

"Mary took Annabelle to visit her sister in Jersey. Ruby's already back at college." Sid answered. Mac sighed and nodded his head knowing his friend didn't like going home to an empty house.

"Alright I give up, you win. What's for dinner?" Mac asked looking over the man's shoulder.

"Beef stroganoff, grilled asparagus with hollandaise sauce, and for dessert a pear galette drizzled with a plum wine glaze that has the barest hint of ginger." Sid listed what he'd made.

"I guess I'll be dining like a king for the next few days. How long is Mary going to be gone?" Mac wondered.

"Three or four days, she said it depends on whether or not they hit a lucky streak." Sid replied.

"They going to hit Atlantic City?" Mac inquired getting out some silverware and a two glasses as Sid already had a bottle of wine set out to go with the meal.

"Nope, said something about doing a shop hop. Ever since Mary went to see Vivian last time she's been a sewing fanatic. All the bedrooms in our apartment are full of fabric and blankets she calls quilts. It's getting to the point where I can't even get dressed in my own bedroom for fear of knocking something off her sewing table. When I asked her why she was so obsessed with sewing little pieces of fabric together she got mad at me. She asked what the difference was between sewing fabric scraps together and sewing up dead bodies. She says what she does is beautiful while I deal with the gruesome day in and day out. I don't know Mac, am I spending too much time away from home? Is that why she's decided to take up this hobby? She's become a different person since she retired from teaching." Sid remarked despondently bringing the platter of Asparagus to the table along with the wine. Mac opened the bottle of Carolina Blush and poured them both a glass while Sid brought the other two dishes to the table before joining him.

"I think it's great she has a hobby, Sid. It's got to be tough on her not have anything to do all day long while Bella's at school. She doesn't have that many more years to go before you pack her off to school as well." Mac said.

"Don't remind me." Sid interjected. Mac laughed and continued.

"What is it, four more years?" He wondered.

"Three," Sid corrected delving into his plate of Stroganoff. "Hmmm," he sighed in contentment. "In the middle of my autopsy this afternoon I got the suddenly craving for this. You know it's interesting…." Sid began and Mac could feel his gag reflex start to object.

"Sid, not at the table please." Mac requested halting him before he had a chance to go into further detail.

"Right sorry, Mac." Sid apologized sheepishly then shoved another spoonful of food into his mouth. Mac likewise ruminated over several morsels when he came up with the solution to Sid's problem. He took a sip of wine to wash the food down before he spoke.

"You said you've been taking Bella to school lately right?" Mac asked to which Sid nodded the affirmative. "Then why don't the three of you move into the carriage house? It hasn't sold in over a year and needs a bit of work since the last tenant moved out anyway." Mac suggested. Sid looked up at him in astonishment.

"You're not serious are you? The rent on the Carriage house alone is more than I make in a year…" Sid began causing Mac to quirk an eyebrow at him. "Okay what I make at the department." he corrected.

"That doesn't matter it's not like I need the money anyway. The land values in that part of town have gone down while the ones near you have gone up. You could probably sell your condo for a lot more than I could make off another actor-wanna-be tenant. Besides it makes more sense to move closer to the private school Bella goes to and we can car pool when I'm here. No matter how you look at it there are more pros than cons. Bella's in a better neighborhood – not to mention within walking distance to her school. Mary can fix up the bottom floor to use as her sewing room and you can have your bedroom back." He listed just a few of the pros but Sid had such a look in his eyes at the last one Mac knew his previous servant was amenable to the idea.

"I'll have to talk it over with the girls." Sid said but nodded his head already sold on the prospect of having his bedroom free of clutter again. It wasn't until desert that Sid cleared his throat to say something. Mac's heart sank as there were only a few times his friend started a topic that way which meant it wasn't good for Mac. "So…" Sid began signaling it was going to be a long night. "I suppose you met the new girl today." Sid said finally cut to the chase. Mac rolled his eyes and went to get a thing of port wine flavored cheese spread out of the fridge before returning to the table. Sid just rolled his eyes but didn't complain about his choice of condiments. Mac helped himself to a generous dollop of cheese and plopped it down on top of the slice of galette that tasted kind of bland after everything else.

"Yes I did. I'm kinda in charge of the crime lab, Sid it's my job to meet everybody. What's your point?" Mac asked cutting into the improved slice of tart and munched thoughtfully on it. Sid of course had to try it and actually gave his nod of approval.

"I should have made a cream cheese base for the pears." Sid said in his defense when Mac raised an eyebrow at him again and stuck another bite of desert into his mouth. "Stella Bonasera," Sid said the woman's name whose face he'd forgotten until that moment making her image pop into his head again. "Nice name. Kind of sounds like someone else we knew. Could be her." Sid mused. Mac groaned inwardly as he should have known that was where Sid was going all along.

"Stella Wentworth is not the same person, Sid. Ms. Bonasera has an Italian father even if she also happens to have a Greek mother. She isn't the same. I haven't gotten a letter from her in over ten years for all I know she's married and has ten kids by now. Bonasera is single, never married, and according to her physical has never even been pregnant. As for her dating life I'm not the least bit interested." He added scooping the last bite of food into his mouth before getting up to put the plate in the sink and turn on the faucet. Mac didn't want to voice his real concern, that Stella Wentworth was just as dead as his wife Claire since it was around 9/11 that he had stopped receiving her letters.

Mac pumped a few squirts of dish soap into the sink and began washing dishes. Even if Sid had used more dishes than Mac normally did in a week there still weren't enough to justify using the dishwasher. Besides he wanted to keep his hands busy though his real goal was to try and clear his thoughts of Stella Bonasera's image – however it had been already burnt into his retinas. Sid finished his galette, gave him the remaining dishes, and set about putting the rest away. The two of them would have leftovers for lunch the next day and then some. Sid couldn't do things small when it came to food but that's what happened when your previous employment was in a high class restaurant.

Sid had been with the family the longest – going on eight years – when his parents were killed but who knew how long he would have stayed otherwise. Mac had learned more about his friend and former servant in the years to follow than he ever had previously. Sid had stayed in New York to oversee his affairs while Mac was in the marines. No matter where Mac was stationed Sid was sure to follow except during a deployment.

When he returned to the states he discovered a new side of Sid, the family man. While Mac overseas Sid had married a teacher and his wife, Mary, was already four months along. After his he was given an honorable discharge for wounds sustained in enemy territory Mac moved back to New York. Sid of course packed up his young family and followed once more though Mac had given him an honorable discharge of his own. Mac asked Sid once why he stayed with him even though he wasn't obligated but Sid shrugged his shoulders and said old habits were like employers, they were hard to get rid of.

Mac supposed the man felt some sense of indebtedness after he had gone through the trouble of setting the man up for life even though it was compensation for services already rendered. He didn't know what he would have done without Sid all those years but he was grateful he didn't have to consider the alternative. The man had become more than just a friend but the father figure Mac had always wanted.

As he allowed his thoughts to wander, they inevitably returned to Stella Bonasera the newest member of his investigation unit. He dwelt on the brown curls that framed her face, the graceful arch of her neck, the curve of her hips as she stormed out of his office, but what stuck him the most were those green eyes. They bored into his soul with the same intensity as another Stella's had long ago. At that he shook his head angrily refusing to see any connection to that helpless girl he'd saved.

Ms. Bonasera was a good year or two older than Stella Wentworth. Physical similarities aside, the irritating woman shared no resemblance with the angelic child he'd pulled from the wreckage of that station wagon. Bonasera was quick tempered, disputatious, incorrigible, feisty, gorgeous, passionate… Mac stopped his thoughts short before they could go any further. That was not what he wanted to be thinking of about a woman twelve years his junior and beside he already had a woman in his life. He wasn't looking for another relationship let alone with a woman who drove him to distraction.

"I know that look." Sid spoke up at his elbow startling him. Mac hadn't noticed the man sneak up on him and he cursed at himself for allowing his guard down so easily. In a situation out on the street that could have gotten him killed. He had to rid himself of that woman's contagion.

"There is no look Sid." Mac shot back having spent years mastering the technique of schooling his features.

"Not in the face perhaps but your eyes tell a different story, My Friend." Sid replied. Mac couldn't argue with that though he wanted to, he had very expressive eyes which was why he tried so hard not to let his face show what he was thinking. Some people said he had the facial features of a statue but spending several weeks in the hands of Islamic terrorists being tortured kind of did that to him. He was one of the lucky few to have survived the ordeal, his men weren't so fortunate. Mac absently rubbed the scar over his heart as he remembered the guys under him who'd been killed by those same terrorists.

"Stop that," Sid commanded. Mac glanced up at the older man and saw the look in his eyes. Sid knew that Mac had slipped back into feeling guilty over the loss of his men and was reprimanding him for allowing the blame to take hold once more. There was nothing Mac could have done as he was forced to watch his men get executed, the doctors labeled it survivor's guilt but it was so much more. They had been Mac's responsibility and he couldn't save them, he couldn't save any of them.

"Mac," Sid warned once more and Mac nodded looking away. Sid didn't press the matter further; they'd been down that road before having the same argument time and time again. "I was talking about the other look," Sid chuckled. "You know the one, the one that says you're trying to convince yourself of all the reasons not to do something when you already know it's a hopeless case." He persisted.

"Sid I am not trying to convince myself of anything concerning that Bonasera woman." Mac declared with a determined set to his chin.

"You said it not me. I didn't even mention her name." Sid played the innocent.

"I know you Sid. You haven't stopped talking about her since the dessert course you might not have said it out loud but your silence is quite loud." Mac replied.

"So is your, Mac. You've been stewing over something since you got home care to enlighten me?" Sid urged. Mac sighed and shook his head knowing he couldn't win against the man he'd known for longer than his own parents.

"You know I enjoy teasing the new hires well she seemed to have handled it fairly well compared with the last few who didn't stick around. I take her out on the first call of the day and she somehow manages to take over the investigation." Mac vented his frustrations to an understanding ear.

"In other words you didn't get to saddle her with the 'rookie stuff'," Sid observed sipping a cup of coffee which had Mac had failed to notice he'd even made.

"I spent two hours climbing through the sewer this afternoon looking for someone's ear, Sid. I haven't had to get my hands dirty like that since I was a rookie." Mac complained. Sid turned away from him but not before he noticed a smile start to form on the older man's mouth.

"Let me guess you were caught unprepared and ruined your favorite pair of shoes." Sid said after clearing his throat trying to hide the fact that he taking pleasure in hearing about Mac's misery. Mac sighed, he should have known better than to give into Sid's prodding quickly thinking of ways to get the man back.

"Patten leather, Sid, those don't come cheap you know." Mac said in his defense.

"Maybe Stella knew you needed a new pair of shoes. How old are those things?" Sid questioned.

"They were comfortable," Mac shot back.

"You could take the cost out of Ms. Bonasera' pay," Sid suggested.

"It's not the cost that bugs me, Sid…Claire bought them for me." Mac admitted then fell into a brooding silence.

"I know they held sentimental value for you, Mac, but that's not what's really bothering you about that woman, is it?" Sid correctly assumed. Mac sighed, finished fixing his cup of coffee the way he liked it, and then sank into his seat at the table. Mac took a few drinks before sighing again.

"I can't get her image out of my head. It's bugging the heck out of me. It's like it was after I lost Claire, I'd walk into a room and see her standing there as she was really in the room but then she would disappear all over again." Mac confessed.

"But in Stella's case, the image doesn't disappear." Sid stated knowingly.

"She's not Stella, Sid; my Stella was a little girl I rescued from a car accident back in Maine." Mac insisted.

"All little girls grow up, Mac, you never know it might really be her. I know you lost contact with her around the same time we buried Claire but have you ever tried contacting the law firm to see if she's still receiving money from the trust fund?" Sid inquired. Mac sighed and shook his head again.

"I've been too afraid to learn the truth to call Fred." Mac admitted.

"Because it's easier to pretend she's still alive than to find out she might be dead?" Sid cut to the heart of Mac's reluctance to call Fredrick Price, his father's old partner. "That's a silly reason Mac, the likely hood of her still being alive is greater than that of her having died in the towers. The average number of…" Sid began.

"I know the stats Sid," Mac abruptly cut him off not wanting to hear the figures again. If only he'd listened to his own gut and convinced Claire to stay home that day. Like so many other people who listened to their instincts which told them not to go into work that fateful day, Mac had felt something too. While he'd told Claire about it she'd just laughed him off and told him he worried too much then went to work like normal.

He'd been uptown at a crime scene when it happened and just like the rest of the nation couldn't believe it was really happening though, like much of the tri-state area, he'd felt and heard the towers fall. He'd kept telling himself that Claire had gotten out, that she was still alive, or that maybe she had turned around and gone home after all. He couldn't bring himself to believe that she was gone when he'd finally made it to the scene. In spite of everything, there was that small part of him that prayed she was still alive out there somewhere. He still didn't want to accept the truth, that she was gone. Albeit he'd attended her funeral – sans corpse, moved on with his life, and formed a relationship with another woman he'd never really moved on with his life.

Peyton didn't seem to mind as she spent the majority of her time in London but he knew there was a rift between them. He wasn't sure how he felt about Peyton. He liked being in a relationship but no one could compare to his wife. He also knew it wasn't fair for Peyton that he couldn't love her as she deserved but she had been the one to pursue him. While he hadn't started the relationship he was determined to not be the one to end it. He was a one girl kind of guy as he didn't like complications multiple relationships could bring.

Claire wasn't the only one he couldn't let go of, when he'd told her about Stella Wentworth she'd always referred to her as 'the other woman' or 'his Stella'. Mac had left everything up to the lawyers after laying the structure of care he wanted to give her. Fred had taken care of everything else after he'd given him Sheriff Kane's contact information. The only contact he'd had of her were the letters he'd stopped receiving ten years ago.

Every now and then he'd pull out her letters and read them over again. They would always bring a smile to his face no matter how many times he read them. They showed a progression from the very first letter a nurse probably helped her to write to the one she sent telling him which college she'd chosen to attend. Perhaps she had always been the woman in his life though he'd never pursued a relationship with her. Mainly because of the age gap but also because he felt as though he'd be taking advantage of her. She'd already been through so much he didn't want to add anything more on top of everything else.

He didn't want to see the connection that Stella Bonasera had with his Stella but he couldn't deny the similarities. In fact Bonasera was the exact embodiment he'd envisioned of the grown up Stella Wentworth; strong and independent with just of spark of temper but a heart full of compassion. That was the image he'd had of his Stella all those years ago when he saw those green eyes staring up at him. Maybe that was what had effected him the most by the fiery Greek who'd come to work at the lab, the fact that she resembled his Stella more than he cared to admit to anyone else.

"…drinks with Hawkes after work…" Something Sid was saying brought him out of the dark place he'd sunk into.

"What was that?" Mac interrupted the conversation Sid was having with himself as he'd zoned out several minutes before.

"Sheldon and I were discussing the mating habits of fresh water…" Sid began causing Mac to shake his head.

"The part about Hawkes having a drink with someone." Mac clarified.

"Oh it seems Stella and Sheldon went to the same college together and became good friends. Since they hadn't seen each other in a while they made a date to have a few drinks together." Sid informed him. Mac's ears zeroed in on the word 'date' and felt his anger begin to flare. He set his nearly empty cup of coffee on the table and stormed out of the room.

He went to the hall table where he left his badge, gun, and phone handy so he couldn't just grab everything along with his keys and walk out the door when he got a call. His cell phone was routed to his home phone when he set it into the jack beside the door. He grabbed his cell phone and headed into his home office so he could make a call without Sid prying. He dialed the number he was trying to reach and waited for the phone to pick up.

"Bonasera," Came the inevitable reply. His heart skipped a beat despite all his attempts to get it to follow his commands.

"Your shift starts at nine o'clock in the morning, Detective. Which mean you should be in the building or on the premises no later than eight forty-five a.m. Where are you?" He demanded.

"With a friend not that it's any of your business, Detective Taylor. You may be my boss when I'm on the clock but I'm in charge of what I do and where I go when I'm off the clock. Good-bye." She declared in that infuriating manner of hers and started to hang up the phone.

"Wait…" Mac called after her though he was unsure of the reason. There was a pregnant pause before he heard her breathe a sigh as she brought it back to her ear.

"What?" She asked in a slightly softer if no less frustrated tone. He felt stupid because he couldn't think of anything to say.

"That report, did you put it on my desk before you left work?" Mac asked fishing for anything that would keep her on the phone a second longer.

"Is that what you called me about at ten o'clock at night?" Bonasera asked incredulously.

"Yes, it's important we wrap up cases quickly." He replied.

"Then the answer is no since I didn't know you required a report before we've finished going over all of the evidence. As I recall it was your idea to send everyone home early but then your instructions weren't explicit. You didn't explain the fact that you wanted me to stay late and go over the hundreds of trace, physical, and biological samples with a fine tooth comb on my own. Maybe you want me to do the autopsy by myself as well though it was already scheduled for tomorrow by someone who knows what they're doing. I guess I could just make stuff up seeing as tox results aren't in yet either and the DNA samples we collected are on back order. I might could manage those if I studied the manuals for the equipment but don't expect them to be admissible in court." Stella shot back angrily and deep down he knew he deserved that but it got is dander up.

"There's no need to take that tone with me, Detective. I expect you to do your job not scrub the floors on your hands and knees. All I asked was whether you had drawn up a file on the Sandler Murder we covered this afternoon. I require the same from all of my CI's." Mac countered.

"Good because I don't sing and I can't talk to animals. Good night, Detective Taylor." Stella said hanging up before he could jam his foot any further down his throat. A vision of Cinderella singing to friendly forest animals from the Walt Disney version of the age old fairy tale in popped into his head and he couldn't resist the urge to laugh.

By the time Sid found him in the study Mac was laughing so hard he couldn't explain that the picture he'd had of Stella covered in soot with a handkerchief tied around her head scrubbing floors was what threw him into a fit of hysterics. Claire had loved that movie and after four years of marriage she had finally convinced him to sit down and watch it with her. Though he'd suffered greatly for it then he couldn't help find the humor in it now. While the typical symbol of a damsel in distress didn't fit Stella Bonasera's image he could imagine she would steal the show at any ball she attended.

"Mac?" Sid asked when he finally sobered at the thought of Stella in a revealing ball gown.

"It's nothing Sid. I just had to make a call. I'll see you tomorrow." Mac told his former servant. The turn around was almost instant as he no longer felt like laughing. He assured the man a few more times that everything was fine before he headed up to his room. He closed and locked the door wishing the image of Stella Bonasera would leave him in peace. He was left with the disturbing picture of the revealing ball gown Stella draped over the arm of Sheldon Hawkes which made him seek the welcome distraction of a cold shower. That haunting snapshot of her that was burned into his mind was going to be the death of him someday.