A/N: Okay, here it is. Finally. This chapter is rated M just in case. Thank you for reviews and alerts! I own nothing, but mistakes are mine. A language warning. Thank you Lily Moonlight for reading, conversation and your suggestions!

Chapter 6.

Part 2.

Belle who: Tide

You can feel it in the air. You can feel it in the air. You feel it in the air. The water is coming, we must stop running.

-----

"Hi, this is Stella Bonasera. I'm sorry I cannot answer your call right now. Please, leave a message after the tone."

He dialed again.

"Hi, this is Stella Bonasera…"

And again.

-----

Stella didn't feel anything, yet she felt everything. She concentrated to breathe in and out, in and out. No, the pain was still there, in her heart. She tried to think of any ways to have things back as normal as they had been, but she couldn't. She needed to talk with Mac. Something about his behavior bothered her. It had bothered her since they had met at work earlier. She had no clue why he had become so impolite all of sudden, and the thought of him not wanting to spend time with her made her heart bleed. She would talk with him soon. She hoped to have enough courage to meet him. She felt so pathetic. If the evening wasn't a mistake, maybe it was her life that was the biggest mistake of all.

"It looks like you need something stronger than just a soda." Don sat down across from Stella and slid the drink into her hands. Stella snapped back to reality. She attempted a smile, but it didn't reach into the corners of her lips.

"It's fine." She lied and sipped her soda. "Thanks."

Stella glanced over at Mac, who spent his time at the bar. He looked grim. Why he even bothered to spend his time in the bar while he clearly didn't enjoy his time, Stella wondered. She observed the other people in the bar. She studied their nonverbal communication. Adam talked with some girl, blushing. Stella smirked when their gazes briefly met. Stella had seen her in the lab. She was a newbie. Kendall. She let her gaze wander a while and turned to look at Don, grinning.

"What?" He asked, seeing the wide grin on Stella's face. He could tell the woman had something in her mind by the way her eyes sparkled.

"You know. There is that brunette...." Stella winked as she had noticed the brown, long haired woman with fashionable clothes. She had kept her eyes on Don, and was clearly annoyed by some guy who tried to talk with her. She had another man in her mind, Stella was sure.

"Really?" Don turned to study her expression. He didn't believe Stella.

Stella tilted her head a bit. "Go talk with her."

"Me? No!" Don protested a slight blush rising on his cheeks. "I don't even know who she is."

"Have you noticed her?" Stella questioned.

Don blushed even more and stammered: "I- In a way."

Stella laughed: "Go talk with her. Now."

---

Stella's chest rose and fell deeply. She continued to inhale, to exhale. There wasn't enough air in the room. She stepped through the crowd, forcing people to move out of her way. She needed to talk with him. Soon was now. She needed to know he was fine. So she could be, too. Mac was in the back part of the bar, near the emergency exit, sitting on a bar chair. He hadn't touched his drink. The amber liquid was still untouched in the glass.

He wanted so badly it to be his oblivion. It never was.

"Hey." Stella touched Mac's shoulder, sliding her hand down along his arm. She felt how his muscles tensed at her touch. She didn't move her hand. He turned his head, dragging his gaze over her body.

"What do you want?"

"No- Nothing. I just--" She breathed deeply, forcing to look into his eyes.

"I knew you wouldn't leave me alone. Here, enjoy this." He slid the drink towards Stella.

"Stop it." She begged.

Mac's laugh was cold: "Oh come on, Stella. I know you want it."

"What is wrong with you, Mac? Why are so--?" She asked silently.

Mac stood up and cut the slight distance between them. He stopped when he was in front of her, his heat far too close to her. The other people pushed their way to the bar, staring at them and Stella steadied herself by gripping his arm.

"I'm fine." Mac grinned, leaning closer and a hint of anger danced in his eyes. His stare was scalding. "What do you want?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat. It was no use talking with him. She would tell him later, and the contact was broken.

"Forget it." Stella shook her head and turned to walk away, but Mac was quicker than her. He tugged her upper arm, spinning her around. Before she noticed, she stumbled after him into the darkness of the emergency exit. The door slammed closed behind them, and he ignored the audible breath that she took as he pressed her against a wall of the staircase which leaded outside. The red, four letters of the self-illuminated exit sign glowed in the room, and they barely saw each other.

The darkness was too consuming.

It wasn't something new.

They faced it before.

---

Time passed.

Stella didn't flinch because she wasn't afraid of Mac. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and every second of sensing his hands on her skin burned her soul. She forced her breathing to be calm, closing her eyes. His breath was on her skin, and she warmed from that. God, she felt so pathetic.

"I asked you a question, Stella." Mac's voice was so low, and the hint of gentleness made her shiver. One simple question required one plain answer. She remained silent. He wanted her to stop this. He wanted her to let go of him. The low beat of the music floated through the wall with the same rhythm of their heart beats. Stella heard him, but her voice locked. She opened her darkened eyes. Mac loosened his hold, not wanting to hurt her, and moved his hands to rest on her waist. The need to touch her didn't stop. Damn. It never did. Every inch of his skin longed for her. It was too painful to think that there was someone else for her.

She's good, but I bet you know that already.

But she was with him now, and it only mattered.

"I heard you." Stella moved her hand to caress his face, feeling his stubble against her palm. Her touch made Mac groan. For a moment his eyes drifted closed, and the room spun in his head. He was drunk, but not by alcohol. No, no. It wasn't his oblivion. She was. He was drunk by her touch, her smile and the sense of her skin. She traced his lower lip with her thumb so painfully slow he wanted the sense to last eons. He leaned closer, his forehead almost colliding with hers. Her lips parted. He was so close. Too close.

He wanted to prolong the inevitable. He couldn't. His mouth skimmed against her. She wasn't sure if it really happened as the man pressed his lips to hers. It was so unreal, and yet it was so real, so right. She made no sound, except the tiny whimper that escaped as he drove his tongue in her mouth. Mac moved his left hand to cradle Stella's head and his fingers tangled in her hair. His right hand traced the waistband of her jeans, and her badge on her hip. She pulled her badge off, and let it fall as she felt his fingers across the soft skin of her abdomen. He waited for her protest, but she only jerked towards his touch. Mac made Stella whimper again as he touched her, letting his hand roam up her waist and over her breasts. He wanted her sweater off, her skin against his. He wanted to have what was his and she was. Of course she had been his for a long time. From the very first time she had called him. She had wanted to be his, when he couldn't be hers. And now, when he pressed himself against her body with the intensity she felt like drowning in the tide of his affection, dear God she was his. She trembled and didn't have enough strength to resist Mac. She didn't even want to. The heat rushed through them both. Every second he had with her, made him kiss her harder, deeper and there was nowhere to go. No other places to be.

"Don't stop." Stella whimpered against Mac's mouth and wrapped her arms around him. He tasted so good, he felt even better. He obeyed her. It was dark, in the place he didn't have to share her. She was his. He needed her. He wanted her. He loved her. Memories wouldn't be good enough, not after when he tasted her. Her mouth was gentle and eager. Not after when he touched her. Her skin was soft and warm. He would always long for her. She was with him, and it only mattered. Even if it was this stolen moment with her, he would take it. He didn't need anything else.

"Say it."

"I can't."

She wanted him. She needed him. She loved him. If it was this moment with him, she would take it. She would let him take it. He was hard against her, and he trailed small kisses along her jaw. His stubble felt rough against her cheek.

"Say you don't want me." He croaked arousal evident in his voice.

Let this be over.

"I can't." Her voice was filled with emotions.

Never.

They were isolated, surrounded by their rapid breathings. She sank into his arms and her head rested against his shoulder. He pressed his face against her hair and inhaled deeply. He ran his hands on her back, his fingers following the line of her spine.

"Say it." Mac moved his other hand to grab her chin, tilting her head up to face him. He needed to hear her. He needed to know everything was the same as it was before. But nothing was. "Say you don't want me. Please, Stella, just say it. Let this be over."

There was so much for her to see, and she saw it all. The pain he tried to hide, the love he couldn't hide. It was all there, in his blue eyes. The shades of ice melted long ago. It ached to breathe. As he exhaled, she inhaled, in turns. Seconds, almost minutes. He graced the side of her face and his touch was a whisper on her skin.

"I can't." Her lower lip trembled and her eyes welled with tears.

He was solid and unmovable against her. Stella didn't know how long they stared at each other in the poorly illuminated staircase. Time hadn't been relevant in her life. It only mattered to her that he was beside her. Her heart was swollen in her chest. She didn't want to let him go. He was all she ever wanted.

Stella took a deep, shaky breath: "I can't because I…"

The words died on her lips as Mac took steps backwards and opened the door. She wanted, so badly, to stop him, but she couldn't avoid the inevitable. No, no. She couldn't. Mac mumbled something unintelligible before he stepped inside the bar. As the door slammed closed, Stella suffocated her sob. Even if she had wanted to, she hadn't enough strength to call after him.

love you.

---

"Are you okay?" It was Don's worried voice.

Stella's body betrayed her badly, lacking Mac's warmth and touch. Stella turned to face Don, her green eyes tearful. A dark turmoil replaced the sparks in her eyes.

"No." She whispered and grabbed her jacket. "I'm not okay."

"What happened?" He asked. He was confused. Stella had disappeared somewhere and now she stood so shaken in front of him. "You talked with Mac?"

"Hmm…" She slipped on her jacket and shoved her hands into the pockets. "I need to go."

Clearly, she wasn't in the mood for talking. Don hated himself for asking: "Did he hurt you?"

A heavy blush rose on her cheeks and she met Don's gaze. "No." She managed to whisper. "No…"

"I'm sorry for asking. You just look so…" Don mumbled.

"Look, I really don't want to talk about it. Nothing happened." She couldn't stop shivering.

"So 'nothing happened' again?" He couldn't hide the smirk, but was given her cold stare which made his grin fade. He continued: "Call me when you're home." He gave a friendly kiss on her forehead.

She was touched by Don's concern, and she steeled herself not to cry and tapped on his shoulder: "You are such a good but totally over-protective friend."

"Hey, that's what we do. We take care of each other." Don smirked.

"Yes, that's what we do."

Then Stella remembered and peeked over her shoulder: "Oh, what's her name?"

The young detective blushed: "Angell."

---

She pushed her way toward the main door, sensing elbows on her back. She wanted to go home. She wanted to be in her bed, beneath the comforter so maybe she would stop shivering. She wanted to sleep till the morning hours. The only thing that was permanent in her life. But somehow she guessed it. She couldn't be able to sleep. Not when she missed Mac painfully.

She sensed a firm grip on her arm.

"Hey, what---"She was about to say but was interrupted.

"Are you all alone?"

She turned slowly to face the man. She remembered.

That was amazing.

And regretted.

"Where's your boyfriend? Where's Mac?" The way his name was said startled her.

"Oh, hey…" Stella managed to say as the smirking man stared at her. Damn, what was his name?

He seemed to read her mind.

"I'm Dean. Remember me? Last time we met I didn't have time to introduce myself." He grinned. "It's great to see you again. You look so fucking sexy." His smile was bold. It made her shiver and she was so shaken already. The bar was crowded and someone pushed Stella toward the man. He took an advance immediately. He held his other hand dangerously low on her back. She inhaled sharply, trying to step away from him. "Just wait a second, okay."

"What's the matter? You got shy all of sudden?" The man teased.

"It's not that---"

"Let me buy you a drink, okay." That wasn't a question.

"I can buy my own drinks." There was a certain determination in her voice.

"I bet you do." He murmured.

"Well, in that case---"

He needed to get her out of the bar.

"In that case, my place is closer." He leaned closer and his eyes danced on her body. "Come on. I know what you want." His whispered words hit Stella's explored neckline. Stella was drawn into another world. She remembered Mac's touch on her skin. She remembered his kisses, and the phantom memory of his lips lingered on her lips. No one could replace his touch. She jerked away from the man's grip.

"Get the hell away from me." Stella raised her voice. "Don't touch me again." And she was gone. The brooding air of the fallen night surrounded her as she stepped outside. Off in the distance she heard the thunderstorm; the same rumble was in her heart. The whiff of air whispered a silent good night. The first drops of downpour fell.

The man was a shadow, following her.

---

Mac stepped out of the men's room. The cold water he had run on his face hadn't helped to ease the sense of Stella's lips. He stood silently for a moment and let out a deep sigh. He needed to get a grip. He still heard her whimpered words.

Don't stop.

But there was something else what made him shiver, and he knew what Stella would have said to him if he had stayed.

I can't because I…

love you.

He had been so wrong. Stella hadn't come into the bar because of the man she had slept with. Of course she hadn't. He knew it now, and he realized what she felt. It had been seen the way she had touched and kissed him. It had been the way she had let him touch her. He would never forget how she had trembled beneath his touch. As he thought about it, panic ran through his veins. His heart jumped into his throat and his chest constricted with trepidation. What the hell had he done? He walked through the crowd quickly as possible as it was, but the people seemed to be on his way. He rushed into the emergency exit.

"Stella?"

He faced the empty staircase. He was too late for she was gone. Being in agony Mac prayed silently for Stella's forgiveness. He shouldn't have left her there, in the damned staircase. He lowered his gaze and the piece of metal, Stella's badge, captured his attention. It was a part of her identity. Without it, she felt stripped and vulnerable. And she had dropped it because of him. It mortified him. He picked up her badge, and held it in his hand before he shoved it in his pocket. He stood there, breathing in and out. He took up his cell phone. He hit her number and waited for her to pick up. He wanted to say how sorry he was. Even more he wanted to tell her how much he loved her.

Let this be over.

I can't.

"Come on, Stella. Pick up your phone…" Mac mumbled.

It rang seven times and went to voicemail. He listened to her voice, a twist in his heart.

-----

"Hi, this is Stella Bonasera. I'm sorry I cannot answer your call right now. Please, leave a message after the tone."

He dialed again.

"Hi, this is Stella Bonasera…"

And again.

-----

TBC


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